


Saints and Sinners

by aybeexinfinity



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mass Effect 2, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, well sort of slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aybeexinfinity/pseuds/aybeexinfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mission is too important. Any distractions for the crew members could end badly during their eventual attack on the Collectors. But Shepard's distraction is a little closer to home, and a whole lot harder to ignore when he's with her all the time. She just can't imagine that she distracts him much too.</p><p>Set during the events of Mass Effect 2. This contains spoilers for the Arrival/Lair of the Shadow Broker dlc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by these lyrics from Twin Skeletons by FOB
> 
> I just need enough of you to dull the pain  
> Just to get me through the night till we’re twins again  
> Till we’re stripped down to our skeletons again  
> Till we’re saints just swimmin’ in our sins again

“That was _not_ how it happened, Vakarian!” Shepard chided, shaking her head at the turian’s recounting of their mission on Noveria with the SR-1. The two of them were sitting down with some of the other crewmates and Cerberus personnel for a meal and Jacob had asked about what happened with the Rachni.

“So you _didn’t_ unleash a Rachni queen on the galaxy after making me fight through a hundred of its angry offspring?” Garrus challenged, watching as she struggled with a comeback.

“She gave me her word. I couldn’t kill the last Rachni of its kind.” Shepard said in her defense. It earned her a few skeptical glances but she turned to Jacob for the final word. “Jacob, ignore what my turian friend here is trying to get you to believe. Noveria _was_ a shit show, yes, but it didn’t end with me setting loose a crazy vengeful alien just for the hell of it. End of discussion.”

“Understood, Commander.” Jacob laughed, finishing the last of his meal and retreating for the evening. Others soon followed suit until it was just Garrus and Shepard, two old soldiers reunited to save the galaxy again. Or at least make it through the week. The way things were going, the latter seemed like the more achievable goal. They were making good progress on the dossiers the Illusive Man had passed on, but between the clusterfuck on the ship Purgatory getting Jack out and the explosive mess on Zorya with Zaeed, Shepard was wondering what else could go wrong with the krogan warlord on Korlus.

Before she could get bogged down too much in worrying about the next mission, her thoughts were pulled back to the mercenary. It had been weeks since the incident with the Eldfell-Ashland refinery and her call to let Vido Santiago get away in order to rescue the factory workers. In those weeks, she still wasn’t certain how she felt about Zaeed Massani, veteran mercenary and infamous bounty hunter. Hell, even after punching him in the face she still almost left him on the damn planet for his own stubbornness. But that wasn’t the only reason she was having trouble forming a real opinion on him.

“Garrus…What’s your read on Massani?”

Maybe it would have been easy, but there was a knot twisting in her gut at the mere thought of the mercenary; all thanks to a dream she’d had three times in the past week alone. A _very explicit_ dream.

“Almost as good of a shot as you. And you’re _almost_ as good of a shot as me.” Garrus replied after a moment, making the Commander roll her eyes but smile despite herself.  “Good sense for tactical precision, and he knows how to take orders which isn’t all that common in mercs. Especially not ones from the Terminus Systems. So, you know, high praise.”

He was right, of course. Whatever reservations she had about the Illusive Man, when he said she needed the best on her team he had delivered. Zaeed Massani was a seasoned soldier and despite the lack of mention in his dossier, Shepard knew he’d spent _some_ time in the Alliance. Probably his formative years, before he turned to the Blue Suns. The military way, it stuck with him and she recognized it. Shepard turned to face the turian properly and propped her feet up on the edge of his chair.

“I meant on a more personal level.” She corrected, trying to keep her face blank as he looked her in the eye. Whatever shortcomings Garrus had in reading human signals and non-verbal cues, he had _always_ been able to read Shepard. And vice versa; it was probably why they trusted one another so deeply. They would always have each other’s back, in a firefight and out of one.

“Seems to me like the kind of person who expects a knife in the back at all times, and with good reason. But if you’re able to earn his trust he’s loyal for life. No in-between for that one.”

Shepard wondered to herself if she’d earned his trust in any sense of the word. She’d brought the mercenary on a few missions now and despite their initial differences (screaming match in the middle of a burning factory was more like it but who was keeping track?), he made an exceptional squad member. Never brought personal life into the field, would cover you if you asked, and never second-guessed her calls.

There was obviously a lot the bounty hunter had seen, done, been through, and endured. Much of it, she didn’t doubt, would never be known to her. But after what she’d lived through since Eden Prime, Shepard knew the buried signs of PTSD when she saw them. However furious she initially was with Zaeed on Zorya for the way he endangered the people they were there to save, she was able to understand him later on. His whole life after the Blue Suns was just biding time until he could exact his revenge, killing whatever he could get paid for. She understood why, after being as close to his goal for twenty years as they were, he kind of lost it when Vido got away. The Commander knew she made the right call, but she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for what she’d forced him to accept.

Truly, though, it spoke volumes about his character that he was able to gain control over himself again, and go so far as to see things from her perspective. He no longer presented as a trigger-happy gun for hire with tunnel vision for revenge. Whatever ill-will he had towards Shepard on Zorya ( _“If he gets away, I’m blaming_ **you** ”) had been abandoned. Now he would reminisce about old jobs or impossible stories of his if she went down to talk with him, sometimes even go so far as to make jokes.

“Why do you ask?” Garrus’ words tore her from her thoughts and she looked back up at the turian. When she shifted a little at the question he turned to face her fully, now interested in her response given her body language. With a teasing voice he asked her “Something I should know?”

“No, I just—” She just what? Wanted to know if she should feel guilty for having a dream about him with his hands all over her, his body against hers, him bending her over the kitchen counter? “I just want to make sure I’ve got everyone at their best for this mission. Some people take a little more effort to gauge than others.”

“Riiiiight.” He didn’t buy it, she knew, but he was kind enough to pretend he did. “Look, Shepard, I’m not exactly the best judge of character…not after what happened with Sidonis…but from what I’ve gathered on missions Massani at the very least respects you. Hell, it’s impossible not to. But on that front I think you’re good.”

With that he got up from his seat, explaining he wanted to run a few more diagnostics on the Normandy’s new thanix cannon before calling it a night. Shepard gave him a lazy salute and went over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter and trying to determine if she was still hungry. Seeing the counter and the empty area around her only made her think of the dream again. Out of everyone on board, of everyone from all the ships she’d ever served on, why did she feel something _now_? This was no longer a military service: she couldn’t hide behind alliance fraternization regulations to keep herself in check.

And here she was acting as if he somehow shared whatever pull she felt. Shepard had no way of knowing that and, if anything, doubted it. Not after what she forced him to give up. He may deal with her, follow orders, have her back in a fight, but none of that translated into what would lead to a fulfillment of her dream.

The Commander tried to put that out of her head and just focus on how she thought of him as a person. She had a read on all her other crew members. Even Jack, the explosive biotic holed up in the engineering subdeck, was relatively easy to figure out. If Shepard could ever crack that shell and see what had made her the way she was, a friendship could happen. Maybe it was stupid, unrealistic even, for her to run a ship that way; but she felt that part of being a Commander was knowing your crew, knowing their faces and knowing that if anything happened to them it would hurt. It contributed to her sense of drive, to her desire to always fight for those willing enough to follow her command.

Shepard always tried so hard to keep as many people alive at all costs. Her perpetual goal was a minimal-loss scenario in every mission, because as soon as you started putting values on sapient life then it became a very easy run of mathematics that often led to a death toll. The kind that haunts you until you make yourself numb. Sapient life everywhere was what needed to be preserved, and with the Reaper threat, now more than ever. But it wasn’t always easy, and Zaeed Massani’s renegade style sometimes reminded her that you can’t always be the good guy. Sometimes all you can do is choose the best worst option and go with it. That was certainly what happened when she chose to save the Council during the Battle of the Citadel. But she hoped, deeply, that she also reminded him that you can fight sometimes, hold on through the fire, and find better options.

Joker’s words echoed in her head: _Zaeed’s like you, but takes checks_. That comparison, perhaps, was what scared her most. Because in some ways, Joker was spot on. Jacob, Kaidan, they had both been soldiers like her, Kaidan had even endured the same things as her on the SR-1. But it was different when you were in command. Despite their military camaraderie, their points of similarity, there were very large parts of her that they would never be able to understand. They never had to make the hard calls.

But Zaeed…he had seen things. Hell, he’d almost seen it all. There was something about broken soldiers who had haphazardly glued themselves back together that only someone who was the same could recognize. And she saw it, the cracks in him that aligned with hers. They were both skilled warriors, beaten down who rose again; despite the fact that they took different paths there was something undeniably the same in the deep cores of who they were. He was like a funhouse mirror, this distorted reflection of herself. At first, it was impossible to see the similarity: but when she looked long enough all the lines and colours started to look familiar.

More than that, Zaeed somewhat set her at ease. There were countless times that Shepard should have bit the bullet throughout her life (ignoring the one time she actually did). In the megatropolis where she grew up, in her time in the N7 program, and certainly in the Skyllian Blitz. It didn’t feel fair that so many were lost and she had survived that. Even after, there was the fiasco with Sovereign. Her path was what she considered the good turnout: Zaeed’s destructive history and bloody path was what she envisioned herself like if she hadn’t joined the Alliance. Yet, in some small way, she was happy to have this vision of him. Because it proved that even if she hadn’t joined up, if she’d stayed troubled, she would have endured. She still would have survived. _A stubborn enough person can survive just about anything. Rage is one hell of an anesthetic_. His words rang true.

Hell, maybe all of this was why her subconscious mind had picked him out of everyone. With a mission like theirs it was no good if anyone was distracted, but that didn’t mean that it was best to have no break. And if her dreams were anything like reality, Zaeed Massani could give her one hell of a break. She felt her core heat with anticipation at the mere thought of it, opening the fridge just to give her hands something to do. Out of anyone, Zaeed wouldn’t judge her on anything. He had the ability to see things from different points of view, regardless of how he would have chosen for something to go down.

“Is there a beer in there?” Massani’s voice startled her so much it made her reach for the pistol that wasn’t there. She heaved out a breath, meeting his eyes for a moment before looking back into the fridge. He came right up beside her, too close for comfort, and waited as she grabbed him a bottle. He took it from her and nodded before using the lip of the counter to open it. “Cheers.”

Having him so close, in the exact location she’d dreamt about repeatedly, did nothing to ease the growing knot in her stomach. She could smell the recently smoked cigarette on him, the smell that lingered with the scent of expelled heat clips, and she wanted his lips on her neck, his legs between hers. If it should have bothered her that he was at _least_ twenty five years older than her, it didn’t. And despite the huge scar left on his face from the facial reconstruction (it would have been necessary after surviving a gunshot to the head) she still found him attractive. The mismatched eyes—one his natural dark green and the other an artificial grey-blue—drew her in hauntingly. She looked at the tattoo on his exposed arm and wondered how far it went.

“Any idea when the bar’ll be restocked?” He asked of her, forcing her to look up at him. They’d run out of any booze that wasn’t mediocre beer two days prior, but between Garrus and the mercenary you’d think they were dry for a year.

“We’re stopping for supplies after the mission on Korlus.” Shepard replied, trying to maintain her cool but itching on the inside to get out of his presence. It did nothing to help her seeing him. _God, I just need to get laid_ , she thought to herself. That was it, just get it out of her system and she’d probably fix this one-track mind.

“Right, well when you get that sorted I’m making a _special request_.” His voice dropped low as he took a half step closer, pulling up his omni-tool and typing into it. He always presented as mostly anti-social and off-put by any kind of contact, but he had the ability to be extremely charismatic when it suited him. At the moment, it was eating up her insides. “Mount Milgrom. Haven’t found a bottle in ages, but it was the best goddamn drink I’ve ever had. You like whiskey?”

“Sure.” Shepard nodded, watching as his message with the exact type of whiskey he was looking for pinged to her omni-tool. She stared at it longer than necessary mostly so she didn’t have to look up at him. Just having him that close was enough to bring the vivid details of the dream back to the forefront of her mind. He seemed to sense something was off and took a few steps back, scratching at the side of his jaw and drinking from the beer bottle again.

“Anyway it’s the good stuff. Let me know if you find any.” He said simply.

“Absolutely, I’ll keep an eye out.” Shepard promised. And she would, she knew that. Because it could count as a favour, an ice-breaker, a way to pull him into a friendship. And hopefully…nothing more. Shepard could just imagine the reaction of her crew. Kelly would no doubt have some psycho-analytic response about daddy issues. Being in his presence didn’t help her shoo the thoughts away, so she quickly gave herself an exit strategy. “I still owe Ken and Gabby a Skyllian Five rematch, let me know if you need anything else and I’ll requisition it the next time we stop.”

The mercenary nodded to her and she set off, but could feel his eyes linger on her retreating figure as she walked towards the elevator. Once inside she let out a deep breath of relief, but still cursed the way her mind was stuck on him. Then, of course, she began to over-analyze their entire encounter. She had been relatively stand-offish since she first had the dream, to the point that it probably came across as dislike.

None of this would be happening if she could just learn to command from afar. If she didn’t insist on getting personal with all her crew. If she didn’t feel the need to weave intimate ties with them all in one fashion or another. Was it selfish? Pulling them into her life just so she could run a ship the only way she knew how? No part of her doubted that it was a direct effect of her mission from hell during the Skyllian Blitz. After losing all those people, watching the dead pile around her while she fought fervently to keep the colonists safe single-handedly against the batarians…she couldn’t help but wonder if things could have been different if she’d only been a better leader. So she filed away in her mind every bit of personality-revealing information she could for each crew member.

Zaeed’s had caught her off guard, especially after their explosive beginning. It was when they were recruiting Jack, and they passed one of the cells where a guard was mercilessly beating a prisoner. The mercenary’s response was unexpectedly insightful and, well, _moral_. He shook his head at the display and stood close beside her, _Nobody walks away from torture unchanged. Not the subject or the torturer. Never found torture worth the price, myself_. It surprised her, to find that side of him offered willingly to her. Maybe that was what sparked it: knowing that his moral compass wasn’t so easily defined as she’d originally thought.

With a heavy sigh she left the elevator and made her way into engineering, finding Ken and Gabby still working. She encouraged them to take a break from anything non-critical so they could try and win their dignity back. The taunt worked and Ken was ready, providing a blessed distraction from the nonsense spiralling around in her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard could feel the music before she even got off the elevator. A dull humming that pulsed through the floors, twitching to the beat of the music blasting from the starboard observation deck. The Commander thought of the atmosphere of Afterlife on Omega and wondered how it had suddenly been created on her ship. She had been on her way to talk with Miranda about the latest update from the Illusive Man, but with the news she’d gotten a drink certainly couldn’t hurt.

The door opened at her approach and she was hit with the full brunt of the loud music. Without even asking she knew who had picked it: Garrus had always liked his music dark and heavy. The turian was sitting at the bar with Jacob, Kelly, Zaeed, and Kasumi. All of them greeted her, the master thief standing behind the bar and asking her request. Shepard asked for the hard stuff and Kelly frowned.

“That’s not a good sign.” Chambers said, folding her hands in her lap and studying the Commander. “It usually means something bad has happened.”

“Not yet.” Shepard teased, sitting between Garrus and Jacob and accepting the drink Kasumi handed her. Everyone seemed to be waiting for some further explanation, so she recounted her discussion with the Illusive Man. “No idea how the Turians took out the Collector ship, but we’ll be there in a few days to see for ourselves.”

“You know, Shep…” Kasumi began, tossing around bottles with relative ease like the bartenders in the Dark Star lounge. She winked at the Commander before putting down a glass and pouring two different types of booze. “Most people run _away_ from giant, looming, human-hating alien ships. Not _towards_ them.”

“Clearly you don’t know Shepard very well.” Garrus muttered, earning a look from the Commander. “If there’s a fire, explosion, gunshot, bomb, geth attack, mercenary hideout, hell even a Reaper, it’s a pretty safe bet that Shepard will have you heading closer.”

“Friendly reminder that this mission is _voluntary_ , Vakarian. If you want to go back to getting your face shot off by a rocket, all you have to do is say the word.”

“Or you could just raise our hazard pay.” Zaeed shrugged, earning a laugh from everyone. Shepard downed her drink and slammed the glass on the table, exhaling deeply at the sting. It was what she needed to get her mind numb. By the time they got to downed Collector ship she would be in tip-top shape, but until then she allowed herself a few hours of numbness. This mess of thoughts about the mercenary were relentless in her head, and she hoped she could get him off her mind to prepare for the mission.

“Commander, how exactly did you end up in the Alliance?” Jacob asked, causing all eyes to settle on her. “I know you grew up on Earth, but it’s a big leap from that to your rank.”

“I was a street kid, actually. Never knew my parents, ran around with a lot of bad crowds. Joined up with this gang that was big in my megatropolis, the Tenth Street Reds. Mostly it was because they ran half the city and being in with them helped you survive.”

The revelation earned her a look of surprise from Kelly, intrigue from Jacob, and a smirk from Kasumi. Garrus, of course, wasn’t hearing anything he didn’t already know, but Zaeed had turned in his seat to look at her properly. Study her, almost. She didn’t know what part of her backstory had him thinking hard, but he was focused on something.

“So how did you go from gang-member to respected war hero?” Kelly asked. “Your psych profile mentioned your time in the Skyllian Blitz.”

“Right, you held off waves of Batarians single-handedly and sealed the breach in the colonist’s defenses.” Jacob added. Her story was well-known throughout the Alliance but she had never gotten used to the attention it gave her. She didn’t want a medal for killing people, she just wanted to do her part for the galaxy, give others the chances she had. Not just improving odds of survival, improving odds of _living_.

“I remember when I first learned that the centuries-old hurricane raging on Jupiter was the size of our entire planet, and that in the time it took for me to get ready, go to class, and come home an entire day had already passed on Saturn. All that variance, just within our star system. The universe has a way of putting the magnitude of your choices into perspective, so I decided to do whatever I could to get off-planet. Figured there had to be something more worthwhile, and I enlisted as soon as I turned eighteen.”

Shepard remembered vividly the day she officially joined the Alliance. She knew it would mean a big change, for better or worse. The Commander may not have anticipated the whole mess with the Reapers, but her time with the Alliance had certainly not failed to deliver. When she looked at all the unfamiliar faces around her, she realized how happy she was that Garrus was sticking around. Because however short her run on the Normandy SR-1 had been, it was the first time she had felt like she had a family. To wake up after two years and find them all gone, the world no better than how she left it…Having Joker and Garrus and the Normandy was all that kept her together in some ways. That, and her sense of duty.

“The Alliance was better for you having joined, ma’am.” Jacob said with an approving nod. He may have lost faith in the Alliance, but he hadn’t lost faith in her. She vowed to honour that faith and bear the burden of Command as best she could.

“Better for us that you left.” Kasumi said slyly, smirking at the Commander.

“People like Shepard don’t leave the military,” Zaeed began with his eyes straight ahead. “They’re politely asked to take time off. And given her service record, they might be ready to beg.”

“What does a terminus systems mercenary know about someone like Shepard?” Jacob asked curtly. It was clear that he didn’t much care for him—didn’t much care for anyone whose loyalty ended when the money did. Zaeed took the bait though, as all men with big guns and bigger egos do.

 “Between the fiasco on the Citadel and the stint on Elysium, you’re hard-pressed to find someone who doesn’t know about her. First human Spectre, and all that.” He explained with ease, letting his eyes shift over to the Commander. “A man doesn’t join a suicide squad if he doesn’t know the one in charge.”

“The Illusive Man is who we report to and—” Whatever Kelly had planned to say, Zaeed didn’t think it important enough to let her finish.

“He’s not the one in charge, Shepard is. Credits can’t buy everything. Can’t buy soldiers like her.”

“But they can, evidently, resurrect her from the dead. For which we are all grateful,” Garrus said upwards and outwards, as if addressing an audience—something he doubted was possible. Kasumi wasn’t a fan of cameras, and if Shepard guessed right she would have destroyed whatever ones she found.

It surprised her that Zaeed would have known so much about her past exploits. He just didn’t seem like the type to keep up with news like that, let alone commit it to memory. But even places on Omega provided galactic news, and given all the stuff she’d heard in passing about the Shepard Memorial or council updates, it shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d managed to catch a few things over the years. What surprised her more was his adamant view that regardless of the ship’s colours and uniforms, the mission was hers. _That_ wouldn’t make Miranda too happy to hear. Miranda. That’s what she had come down here for, to talk to her.

“I should go.” Shepard finished her drink and set the glass on the table, getting up and straightening her appearance. “Still have to debrief Miranda on this mission.”

She bid her crewmates farewell and left the music-filled lounge. Heading back into the main crew deck, the Commander made her way to the room that had once belonged to Anderson. All the talk about the Alliance and her history made her miss it, in many ways. Certainly not the politics and bureaucracy that sometimes came along with it, but she missed feeling connected in the way the military provided. Cerberus just felt wrong.

“Miranda, got a minute?” Shepard asked as she entered the operative’s quarters. She looked up from a datapad and nodded, setting it down and lacing her fingers together.

“Of course, Commander.” Miranda said smoothly while Shepard sat across from her. “I assume this is regarding our destination, I just read over the report from The Illusive Man.”

“If things go to plan, it certainly will give us an edge against the Collectors.” Shepard said, leaning back in the chair. Miranda nodded and brought up charts and graphs and statistical analyses courtesy of Mordin’s work on the seeker swarms and whatever else they got from their scans.

“This mission has the potential to be a goldmine, Commander.” Miranda said as she began to explain some of Mordin’s findings while offering her own hypotheses. “It is definitely the most important chance we’ve gotten. In the Collector vessel, there will no doubt be technology that we can salvage, s simple scan would provide us with a full schematic of the ship, and there is a possibility some of the missing colonists are on-board.”

“Aside from not getting the ship blasted for a second time, the colonists are our first priority.” Shepard asserted. “With all the pods we encountered on Horizon, at least we know what we’re looking for. And we know they’re being kept in some sort of stasis, even if we don’t know what they want.”

“Shepard, we should also be prepared to deal with the possibility that none of the colonists are alive to rescue.” Miranda replied with a straight face. She was right: it was a very real possibility. “Along with that, we should also prepare for any Collectors still aboard the ship. The Illusive Man is particularly curious about the interest Harbinger has taken in you through the possession of Collector soldiers. We know what works best against them: biotics and incendiaries.”

The Commander only needed to warp the barriers of the Collector for them to be vulnerable, and Zaeed’s grenades seemed to do a good job of panicking the enemy while also harming them. _Just like that, I’ve decided he’s going_ , she thought to herself. Pushing the thoughts out of her head, she focused on Miranda and nodded.

“No matter how it turns out, we’re bound to find _something_ that gives us an edge.” Shepard said with confidence. Miranda looked as though she was going to say something but thought better of it, instead explaining further parameters of the mission.

“EDI will sync with the Collector vessel’s systems once you establish a link on-board, primarily to data mine for anything useful. However, Commander…I don’t believe I need to stress to you of all people how much of an unknown this situation is. I don’t like sending you in with so many uncertainties. The Illusive Man may be smart, but he can’t tell the future…No matter how well he plans for it. So please, be careful.”

“It’d be a hell of a bad return on investment if I got taken out now.” Shepard joked, earning the smallest of smiles from her second-in-command. They went over a few other details of the mission, trying to cover all the bases and come up with contingency plans. When the Commander felt as prepared as anyone could be in their situation, she thanked the Cerberus operative and took her leave.

Cementing a run-down of the mission didn’t help much in battling the uncertainty rustling around her insides. Something still just felt terribly _off_ about this mission. That, and there were still two sleeps that stood between now and when she finally set foot on the alien ship. Shepard had never slept all that well after Elysium, but after returning from the dead the nightmares had been worse than usual. It was a miracle she was able to walk with such little sleep let alone do her job.

When she went back to the lounge to grab one more drink for the road (or to hopefully help her sleep deeply, for once), she expected Kasumi to have a smart-ass response ready for her. The thief was nowhere to be found, though, and for that matter neither was anyone else; except the turian and the mercenary. Zaeed Massani, this man of great violence and hidden depths. He was in the middle of pouring himself what looked to be one-drink-too-many when he watched her enter.

“So here’s where the party’s at.” Shepard teased, eyeing the massive mess of empty glasses, spilled alcohol, and half-empty bottles. Zaeed made it into a seat and raised his glass; the Commander and Garrus exchanging a look.

“Goddamn right.” He downed half of his beverage and leaned back in the chair while Shepard made her way behind the bar. “Come to hang out with the popular kids, Shepard?”

“It’s a whole lot easier to think back here.” She explained while claiming a bottle at random and beginning to pour herself something. Without warning, the mercenary’s hand shot out and gripped her wrist firmly. She flinched away from the contact by reflex and stared at him with furrowed brows.

“That stuff’s only good for your Archangel.” He said roughly, releasing her and sitting back. Shepard shook it off as best as she could and slid the glass over to Garrus. Despite her best efforts, and even while pouring herself something that _wasn’t_ toxic to humans, she felt the phantom grip of the bounty hunter’s skin on hers. The two of them stole small glances at one another and while Garrus downed the drink, he watched them. Getting to his feet as soon as he was done, he announced that he was calling it a night. They exchanged goodbyes and Shepard was left alone with the mercenary.

“Thanks, by the way.” She said after a moment of silence between them, motioning to her would-have-been drink. “I may have survived a Batarian barkeeper poisoning me on Omega, doesn’t mean I want to try my luck again.”

“So how bad is it, really?” He countered, completely off-topic. Zaeed looked her dead in the eye, and Shepard was extremely thankful for the physical barrier between them that the bar provided. Having his undivided attention thrust on her so suddenly caught her off-guard. “It can’t be good if you’re having a post-drink drink.”

“I don’t know...Something just seems off. I could be wrong, it could all go smoothly and we’ll find an easy way to end the Collectors and the galaxy could go back to normal.” She shrugged, trying to believe the optimistic front she was putting on. The fact that she admitted any doubts at all so freely to him made her sigh internally. No judgement from the mercenary: of course she opened up.

“You don’t actually believe that bullshit.” He asserted, finishing the rest of his drink and pouring another. She had never seen him look this intoxicated, and she wondered what was scratching at his mind that he too needed to soothe his thoughts with alcohol.

“It _could_ happen.” She challenged, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “But it won’t. Whatever ends up happening though, the mission will be seen through.”

“Is that the Alliance talking or the Reds?” Zaeed challenged, raising an eyebrow. Shepard tilted her head, trying to understand his insinuation. “They were never the best, only the biggest. Had a whole territory to myself when I was still running with them on Earth.”

“ _You_ were part of the Tenth Street Reds?” Shepard leaned on the bar, wholly amused at the idea. The mercenary’s eyes dipped down for the briefest moments to her cleavage before meeting her gaze once more.

“It’s more believable than the Hero of the Citadel being caught up in that stuff.” He countered, drinking more. “They still do that stupid code nonsense when you were in?”

“No one ever got creative with those code words, did they?” Shepard almost laughed at the memory. “I’m surprised more of us didn’t end up behind bars.”

Just like that, they lapsed into a detailed conversation about the gang they had both been a part of, even if it was decades apart. They talked about the leadership, their best moments, their worst, the friends they made—and the enemies. Zaeed told her all about his glory days in the gang, and how after getting a taste for it he’d left Earth soon after and started up the Blue Suns. It was simple for Shepard, talking about this distant part of her life that felt more like a story than a memory. The hurts back then were smaller, easier to ignore.

“Did you kill him?” Zaeed asked in a low voice. It triggered something deep in her and made her patently aware of the fact that they were closer than necessary. She worked past it, tried to pretend it wasn’t so.

“For what, threatening to tell the Council that I’d been part of a gang on Earth when I was a teenager? No. Finch may have had the bite to follow through but I managed to talk him down.”

“Course you did.” The words would have sounded harsh if it hadn’t been for his tone. Somewhere between teasing and admiration with a little bit of chastisement. He poured the both of them another drink before continuing. “You’ll always go the good route, even if it kills you.”

“It already did, last time I checked.” She joked, but the smile quickly faded at the memory. Alone in space, it was how she’d always wanted to go. Choking kills you quickly, your brain can’t function without oxygen so it’s just a few moments of struggling before the end. But in that moment, when the atmospheric void of the abyss floods your suit and helmet, there is nothing between you and infinity. Nothing to separate you from the outwardly expanding universe that has always been home. It wasn’t as gentle as that, though. Not with the fresh image of her dead crew stuck in her mind. Not without knowing for sure if the escape pods would make it, if the Alliance back up would get them, if the giant unknown enemy would finish them all off. More than that, she still had fleeting feelings, flesh memories of death. “So what are you gonna do when all this is over with?”

“I plan on taking my cash-out from the Illusive Man and retiring.” He spoke easily, but his eyes were trained on her. He hadn’t missed the expression on her face, and likely knew what was going on in her head. _Mirror image, and all_.  “Been thinkin’ about Bekenstein—good food, decent weather, mostly human. Could be worse. And you? Gonna run for a spot on the Council?”

“I’m no politician, don’t have the stomach for it.” She said quickly, not even entertaining the idea. “Besides, people like us…we don’t ever really retire, do we? Change of scenery, maybe, but we’ll never be able to really let it go.”

The music filled the gaps in their conversation, and Shepard wished she didn’t find such comfort in his presence. Zaeed wasn’t stupid, and wasn’t one to get offended by someone not wanting to be his friend—but he seemed to know that wasn’t the case despite her confusing demeanor towards him in the recent weeks. He had to know something was up with her, though. For God’s sake she brought him on _every_ single mission. He wasn’t as dense as he played, he would figure out sooner or later that she didn’t just like him for his aptitude towards good cover fire.

“So, what do _you_ think about the music?” It was mostly an attempt to distract herself, but he saw to it that didn’t happen with the way he looked up at her. Expel 10’s big hit _Hurt Me Deeper_ was thumping around them. “Garrus keeps trying to sell me on this stuff.”

“You don’t really want to know what I think, Shepard…” He trailed off darkly. Shepard’s eyebrows furrowed and she realized that he was really starting to look worn down from all the drinking. The Commander had yet to see him actually wasted, but it was looking to be as close as she would get. There was something else in the way he looked at her, though.

“Sure I do.” She countered, straightening up and bracing her hands on the counter. He looked up at her with some emotion she couldn’t place because he was working so hard to keep it covered.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful.” He admitted suddenly, freezing her in her spot. Her heart thumped erratically behind her ribcage while her mind raced past the alcohol to try and process. “There, I said it.”

He looked away from her, focusing back on his drink while her mind reeled. She was brought back to her last visit to Omega, when she’d begrudgingly accepted to do work for Aria by protecting her pet Krogan. After it was over, the de facto leader of the station had sat down and looked at her carefully. _You should find a nice young man to keep you warm in the meantime_ , the asari said lazily. Then, with a look between the Commander and the bounty hunter, she seemed to rethink her words. _Or maybe not so young, in your case._ The loud song came to an end and plunged them into silence. Shepard quickly shut it off entirely to give her hands something to do and her eyes something to look at other than him.

Zaeed left his seat and came around the bar, making the Commander stiffen as he walked up close to her. For a moment he stood in front of her, the two of them locking eyes, and she was absolutely certain he was going to kiss her. What scared her was that she would have let him. But instead he reached for a bottle behind her and studied it before opening it up and pouring himself some. Shepard should have stepped back to give him some personal space, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, if she didn’t know better she thought he even took a step closer. Looking down at her, he clenched his jaw and opened his mouth to speak—but whatever words he had planned were swallowed up at the sound of the door opening.

“ _There_ you are.” Kasumi said sweetly before noticing the two of them. A small smile appeared on her face and just as quickly disappeared as Shepard turned to the bar to clean up a little. “I was cloaking through the CIC, and one of the women in Navigation thinks she’s pregnant. Even aboard a Cerberus ship…life finds a way.”

“Kasumi, spying? _Not_ okay.” Shepard chided lightly, not needing to look beside her to know that not only had Zaeed not moved, but his eyes kept moving back to her. Shepard couldn’t afford this kind of distraction, not with where they were heading. Not with the severity of what lay ahead. With stern resolve she looked up at the two of them. “I should probably go check on Grunt, make sure he hasn’t broken anything… _overly_ expensive.”

“See ya.” Kasumi gave a sloppy salute and curled up on her couch as Shepard left the lounge. When the Commander made it to the elevator she wondered about her decision to let Grunt out of his tank. He’d nearly killed her in his first minute of consciousness, and however close she’d been with Wrex, Grunt seemed like possibly even more of a handful. All the alcohol was starting to take its toll on her and she quickly pressed the button for the fourth level. Leaning back against the wall, Shepard put her head in her hands and prayed that the night could bring her sleep.

A moment before the doors had fully closed, the familiar yellow armor held it open so he could enter. She nodded to him but was thankful that he opted to keep his distance. _She did not need a distraction right now_. The elevator began its horrendously slow descent to the level below them, and she tried to keep the mercenary out of her head. Wasn’t this cat-and-mouse game supposed to end when you were young? Why could she throw herself into life and dead situations with non-existent odds of survival, but couldn’t take a risk on something like this, like him? Shepard wondered if maybe the salarians had it right: reproduction contracts and nothing more. It didn’t get messy, the way they structured things.

The door opened and he motioned for her to get out first. She managed to wish him a goodnight as they went their separate ways down the hallway, but at the last moment his voice turned her back to him.

“Let me know when the shuttle’s ready to go.”

Just like that. He didn’t even ask if she needed him, didn’t even wait till they were actually ready to launch the mission. Shepard couldn’t tell if it was because she always seemed to find a reason to bring him along, or if it was because he wanted to be there. Wanted to have her back.

A small, suffocating part of her hoped for the latter.


	3. Chapter 3

The elevator slowed to a halt when the commander reached the engineering deck, doors opening to an empty hallway. Shepard hesitated for a moment before stepping out and heading towards the starboard cargo. Behind her she heard something crash and Grunt laugh maniacally. It brought a smile to her lips as she entered the bounty hunter’s quarters. The smile wiped clean as a blade flew past her face and lodged into the Cerberus logo on the wall. Turning to Zaeed she raised her eyebrow at him. He seemed completely unfazed by the incident and simply nodded towards the bottle in her hand.

“That what I think it is?” His voice was rough, the scars on his face from the last mission still raw despite the medigel. Shepard held up the bottle and shook it once.

“One bottle of Mount Milgrom triple-distilled forty-five year old scotch whisky. The staple for any Cerberus-funded bounty hunter.”

“Roped into a goddamn suicide mission, no less.” He added, accepting the bottle. Opening it immediately he took a mouthful and growled as it went down. “The hell did you find this?”

“It’s not as hard to find when you’ve got someone else’s credits to spend.” Shepard shrugged. Zaeed handed her the bottle and she took a drink herself, understanding why it was his favourite. It was _precisely_ the kind of drink you needed after the fucked up missions that were becoming increasingly common place for them. “Figured I owed you one.”

He met her eyes for a moment and then looked away, reaching out to take the bottle back. She still didn’t know exactly what to make of what had happened on the last mission. Part of her wanted to write it off as Zaeed just settling into the idea of working as a team, but part of her couldn’t help but wonder if it was something else instead.

 _The whole mission was a damn mess. It had felt wrong going in to the Collector ship from the beginning, but she had a job to do. The further they went in and the patent lack of any enemies—living or dead—had only emphasized her nervousness. Something wasn’t right, but they kept pushing on. Even when Joker told them it was the same ship from Horizon, the same ship that killed her. Some part of her had hoped that they would find the missing colonists,_ any _of them, and rack up a victory in the form of a rescue._

_That whole idea was thrown out in favour of simple survival as soon as Shepard had linked EDI into the system. Finally, the enemy came crawling out of the woodwork. Platforms akin to the one they had walked onto were delivering wave after wave of Collectors, these horrifically repurposed Protheans who had once ruled the entire galaxy. The came with the fury of the ghost of their species, a city of the dead vowing to bring her down with them—only they had no recollection of the reason for their fury or vengeance. All they remembered now was the need to kill._

_As the three of them fended off the constant attacks and EDI worked to gain control again to help them get off the God-forsaken ship, Shepard tried not to think about the Illusive Man’s betrayal. Whatever his motivations, you couldn’t work without trust. Without some level of transparency: something he sorely lacked, as evident by their current scramble through Collector infested chambers. They were pinned down not far from where they came in, but still had a whole lot of fighting to do if they wanted to make it out alive._

_“I’ll throw you like a toy!” Jack roared, shooting out a shockwave towards the incoming foot soldiers. A few abominations were among them, their flaming bodies exploding into pieces at the biotic impact._

_“Don’t let them swarm you.” Shepard called out, switching out a thermal clip. One of Zaeed’s incendiary grenades flew past her to the throng emerging to their right. A door on the far side of the room opened and through it came a massive creature that must have contained at least thirty husks. It looked like a cross between a giant Prothean and some sort of insect, the huge thing flying slowly toward her while boosting its kinetic barrier. Shepard scrambled for her arc projector as a rabble of husks came flooding after the creature. She knew they had to get that barrier down with a rapid-firing weapon if she wanted to take the beast down quickly, but she had to stop to change her clip again and again, cursing the ammo capacity of the sub-machine gun. The monster shot at them with some kind of particle beam that caught her off guard as she scrambled for cover._

_“My shields are down!” Shepard announced, keeping her eyes on the beast and waiting for her moment. They were close, she knew it. But as soon as it was destroyed they still had to make it down to where the shuttle was and back to the Normandy before the ship’s weapons powered up and blasted them to oblivion…again._

_“Shepard, watch your ass!” Jack yelled. The Commander was in the middle of throwing a warp field, when a husk blindsided her, cutting off the regeneration of her shields. She emptied her clip taking it down and was rushing to reload for the millionth time when she saw two flaming abominations rushing towards her. This was gonna fucking hurt._

_From behind her, Zaeed grabbed her arm and pushed her to the ground. Throwing his body over hers, he allowed his shields to take the brunt of the damage when the abominations exploded on them. The early stages of stubble on his cheek brushed roughly against her jaw as he lifted his head to look around. Some distant part of her was reacting to the unprecedented gesture, but the forefront of her mind was focused on the mission. He was propped on his arms over her, breath hot on her neck, as he cursed up a storm. Shepard grabbed the arc projector from beside her and braced his shoulder while she took aim at the giant creature. Holding the mercenary against her to prevent him from being targeted by the jolt of electricity, she fired at the beast and watched it shudder. It finally exploded and the husks stopped coming, but there was barely any time to breathe._

_Zaeed used his assault rifle to push himself up and then offered a hand. Shepard took it willingly, letting him heave her up. For the briefest of moments when their eyes met they stood closer than was necessary, close enough to count every freckle or wrinkle or scar, but Jack caught up with them and they were forced onwards. Thankfully for everyone involved, only a handful of husks stood between them and the shuttle: something easy to overcome with all the shockwaves flying around. As soon as they made it back on board Shepard rushed to the helm with Joker as he and EDI got them out of the system. Only when the Normandy was drifting through the deceleration of an FTL jump did the Commander stop to breathe, limping into the armory and pulling off her chest plate. As she set it down on the table she noticed new scratches where the paint had not only been scraped away, but also replaced with the familiar yellow paint of the mercenary’s armor. She had been marked._

“Few more bottles and we’ll call it even.” He said plainly, settling against the wall. It was no secret, not even a surprise, that the Cerberus rebuild of the Normandy had come with hidden surveillance bugs. Mordin had found his immediately, and was even kind enough to return the most expensive one to Miranda. Along with Jacob, Miranda was probably the only crewmember who didn’t seem to mind. _Nothing to hide_ or _necessary for the operation_. But Zaeed would never stand for that.

He’d gone through the small room he’d claimed for his own and sent every last recording device out through the trash compactor. Even went a step further and set up his _own_ surveillance around the ship: clearly apprehensive about working with her crew (or at least who was funding her mission) and put the effort in to watch his back. She couldn’t blame him, really, considering his line of work and what he was probably used to, even from people he was working with. Hell, these were the Terminus systems. If you didn’t expect betrayal, you wouldn’t make it through the week.

But he seemed, for the most part, to have settled in by now. Sure he didn’t trust Miranda and Jacob, and _certainly_ ignored EDI, but he seemed alright with the others. With her, for sure. His own surveillance included a myriad of locations on the ship, but what surprised Shepard was seeing that he’d even had one put outside the entrance to her cabin. The Commander wondered whether it was to see when she was coming out, or to see if anyone else was going inside. Regardless, she could come down and take refuge in this place, knowing that nothing she said would be recorded by Cerberus, nor held against her by Massani. He wasn’t like her other crewmembers, not like Garrus or Joker who were used to her being the hero. Zaeed didn’t expect heroics from her the way she would catch the Cerberus crew discussing, hell he sometimes made the point to remind her the notion of it was stupid.

“Collectors, Protheans, it’s all above my pay grade. Makes all the things I’ve done look small-time in comparison.”

“Well, one more thing to add to your resume then.” Shepard teased, giving a small smirk as he handed her the bottle. She realized what a significant gesture it was: that he was willing to share what was a limited supply of his favourite kind of alcohol. Despite her joke she had yet to ever see the mercenary laugh. Part of her couldn’t blame him: he was always ready for a knife in the back. Or in his case, a bullet to the head.

The Commander got him talking about the rifle on the table, his beloved Jessie, and some of the missions he’d taken her on back when he was with the Blue Suns. She had a skeptical look on her face as he tried to convince her that this shitty old discontinued Avenger model, even _with_ mods, was anything worth getting excited about. There were a dozen flaws with it, but he still stood by it. Even when it could no longer shoot. It was the kind of dedication he’d been conditioned to longer give to real people.

He was broken down and built up, but so was she. Shepard couldn’t get him off her mind, no matter how badly she tried. She just needed enough of him to dull the pain. If he was willing to give any of himself, it could maybe get her through the damn night. With what he’d been through, it was entirely possible that he could use the same. She could give that to him. Assuming, of course, that she was at all reading him right.

 “I should let you go.” Zaeed turned away from her, setting the bottle down on the table beside the Blood Pack helmet. Without a backwards glance he went over to the wall and leaned against it. “Talk more later, Shepard.”

Shepard couldn’t bear it any longer. For better or worse, she was clearing up where they stood once and for all.

The Commander took calculated steps closer to him and watched the way his demeanor shifted. He could see there was something different in the way she approached him, but he said nothing. Whatever he was thinking, feeling, holding back from saying, none of it showed. But this was the first time she’d ever stuck around after the conversation ended; under normal circumstances she’d be heading back up to the CIC or her cabin. This time, though, she opted for courage. This time, she refused to be idle. The slow burn in her core, the way her heart jumped as she drew close, she knew that there was no longer room for second guessing. Ridding herself of all hesitation, Shepard crashed her lips against his and pressed her palms against his chest plate. He entertained the kiss for a few moments, reflexively gripping at her waist until she pulled away.

She looked him in the eye, searching for some kind of indication that she’d gotten the signals crossed, that this wasn’t what he wanted, but she found nothing but hunger. His eyes dropped from hers to her lips and he came at her with fervor. He deepened the kiss as his hands slid up her back. She let her fingers glide up his neck and tangle in his hair, letting go of all inhibition and taking steps backwards with him following in tow. When her body hit the table below the window, she broke away only to focus on the armor that stood in her way. It may not have been standard issue Alliance armor like she was used to, but she’d modded her equipment enough times to know where pieces came together—and where to pull to take them apart. He aided in the process, watching her with a distant lust.

When she had finally cracked him out of his shell it was almost a relief. Shepard couldn’t stop herself from letting her eyes wander at the sight of him in normal clothes—his armor was _always_ on and despite its snug hold on his body it still left something to the imagination. Hers, apparently, was spot on. All the merc work, all the independent contracts and traipsing through the galaxy and firefights and brutality, it kept him strong. She met his eyes again and he came back to her with hunger, barely pausing as she pulled off his shirt. By the time Shepard had tossed the fabric on the ground, Zaeed reached behind her and pushed all the clutter out of the way. He lifted her up with ease and set her on the table, settling between her legs and pulling down the zipper on the back of her dress. She pulled the top of the fabric down and he made quick work of her bra while she pushed down his pants just low enough.

The mercenary took in a sharp breath when she took hold of him, slowly running her hand up and down the length of him and circling a finger on his tip. He growled lowly and slid his rough hands up her legs, pushing up the hem of her dress so he could pull off her underwear. Between her legs the mercenary began to work at her, teasing gentle moans from her throat with each stroke of his fingertips. Shepard’s hands gripped the edge of the table and he watched as she started to unravel. His touch was almost more than she could bear and had her on the very edge of begging; but the sight of her like that in front of him, completely at his mercy and _wanting_ him, it erased any hope he may have had for prolonging things.

Instead he pulled her hips close to his and pushed into her in one movement. It made her tense up, but the blissful sensation spiralled upwards to the rest of her body and she exhaled deeply. The mercenary pressed his lips along her jawline and down her neck before biting at her, marking her just like he did her armor. His arms caged her in on either side, pressing in close against the Commander’s skin. She ran her fingers up both of his arms, tracing them along the full-sleeve tattoos that decorated from his wrists to his shoulders.

Again and again he pushed into her, filling her up and scattering kisses across her body. Shepard cursed her past self for ever putting this off; she didn’t want to know anything besides this feeling of him on her, in her, all around her. He was the most blissful temptation to give in to, the sweetest sin. His forehead pressed against Shepard’s as his pace quickened, the build up inside of her making her whole body squirm. The sudden sound of the elevator door opening in the hallway was accompanied by a series of voices. It gave the mercenary pause and he looked up at the tinted window behind her.

“ _I don’t care if they waltz in here_ ,” Shepard began, drawing his attention back to her as she tightened her legs around his hips, angling hers to take more of him in. “ _Don’t you dare stop_.”

The command made him smirk darkly and he reached a hand between them. He moved again with determination, circling her clit with his thumb. The action forced a moan from her that came too quickly for her to bite down, and the voices outside went silent. He met her eyes and tried to illicit the sound again, so she brought his lips to hers in an attempt to stifle the uncontrollable noise. When her back began to arch he broke the kiss off, looking at her with heavy eyes and leaning close to her ear.

“ _I want them to hear you come_.” He commanded in a deep voice. It reached down inside her and drove her wild, and she looked up at him with expectant eyes. Without warning the bounty hunter began to fuck her mercilessly, growling as her nails dug into the back of his neck. Despite her best efforts, sounds began to escape her with every move. The boxes on the table behind her, the clutter, even his beloved retired rifle were shaking with their frantic movement.

She couldn’t hold out, and soon her toes curled as her whole body quivered. Shepard’s head fell backwards against the window as he collapsed against her, the feeling of her wrapping tightly around him proving to be more than he could handle. He growled as he was blessed with release, a free hand digging into her back. When the two of them reeled down he straightened up, pulling his pants up and watching as her hands trailed down his arms. They finally looked one another in the eye, but neither of them had any idea what to say. There had been no discussion of terms: was this a one-off? An agreement to casual sex? God forbid, something more? The thought of such a discussion was more intimidating to Shepard than a trip to the collector ship.

“Commander,” Joker’s voice sounded over the comm system with mild urgency. “EDI just picked up a distress beacon signal on a nearby planet, sounds like the Blood Pack have taken over a mining expedition.”

“I’ll be right there.” She said quickly, rushing to put her bra back on and fix her dress. Zaeed took a few steps backwards to clear the way for her and reached down to get his shirt off the floor. She watched as he pulled the fabric back on and smoothed his hair. He quickly began to put all his armor back on and she searched for where her underwear had gone. Finally locating it and getting it on she made sure she looked presentable—or at the very least like she hadn’t been fucking the mercenary. Turning awkwardly to face him, she struggled for something to say. He leaned back against the wall and nodded to her.

“Watch out for the vorcha’s goddamn flamethrowers.”


	4. Chapter 4

The galaxy map was always the first thing to grab Shepard’s attention when she stepped out of the elevator. It was brighter than everything else, and it was usually where she was headed when she came to the CIC. Over the years she’d felt a hundred different emotions while approaching the holographic interface of the Milky Way galaxy, but this time she felt determination. Despite the craziness brought about with their previous missions, they were making fairly good progress. Her team was getting stronger, and with everyone recruited from the dossiers it was just a matter of getting their heads in the right place. Some were good to go, though it hadn’t exactly been easy getting them there (Grunt. She was thinking of Grunt and his Krogan puberty rite that ended in a run-in with a thresher-maw and no Mako to provide cover). Shepard was feeling more confident about their odds than before—at least, their odds of getting the job done. She still wasn’t planning anything long-term.

“Commander, you’ve received new messages at your private terminal.” Kelly announced as she approached. With a nod, she redirected her steps to the terminal but the Yeoman summarized what she had deemed most important. “Zaeed received some news that he’d like to discuss with you, he’s waiting in the comm room when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Kelly.” Shepard said, making an effort to at least glance at the other emails before going back to where the mercenary was waiting for her.

She blamed _him_ for the way Kelly smiled after turning away. Between her, Kasumi, and Tali, she felt like she was the star of a romance vid. And Garrus did nothing to help either. It was Zaeed’s fault for trying to _not_ keep her quiet, that night in his room. There weren’t really secrets aboard a ship like this, especially not a secret like that. Shepard couldn’t even use the excuse that they were officially together to reconcile things in her mind.

Because they definitely were not. As she logged out of her terminal and headed towards the armory, she recalled the times she’d returned to the bounty hunter’s claimed space since the first time. So far, it had always been on her terms, when she was brave enough to return. Almost as if he expected each time to be the last. Almost as though pushing for anything else would drive her away. It was blissful to have him in any sense of the word so she didn’t pry, didn’t try to bog him down by asking for definitions or labels or approximate levels of investment. Because when her nights turned from bad to worse, or after a battle that riddled her with flashbacks to her worst moments on Elysium, she could go to him and lock his door and know that she would be greeted with thirsty lips, hungry hands, a warm body that yearned to bring her release. To help her forget—if only for a while.

“Kelly said you wanted to see me?” She asked upon entering the comm room and finding the mercenary studying unfamiliar diagrams on the holo. He looked up at her, watching for a heartbeat too long, and nodded for her to come over.

Shepard knew he’d been betrayed too many times, especially by lovers, for him to actually bother investing in her. She could push her feelings aside and accept whatever he was willing to give if it helped her sleep at night.

“Got wind of an operation you might like to blow up.” He said as he began to organize all the images he had pulled up in front of them. Pulling a planet’s image closer, he pressed it to show detailed information and zoomed in on a northern continent to show a satellite image of some compound. “A few hours ago an old acquaintance sent me a distress signal. It was a backup for when we ran jobs, guess he never disabled it. Tracked it as far as the Hekate system but that’s when it goes blank. There’s a planet there, big for slavers, figure that’s where they took him. He’s probably dead by now, though.”

“If you don’t want to rescue him what _do_ you want?” Shepard asked, mildly confused. Zaeed looked over at her and hesitated, as if rethinking this proposition entirely, but when she stared back with just as much determination to keep him on board he continued. Pulling up a transmission from his omni-tool, he set it up on the holo in front of them.

“—not an idiot. I know when things—ver for good. I done a lot of bad th—my life, so maybe this will help. One last hurrah. Whoever gets this, it was the Batar—bastards. They came in the middle of the night, rounded up—last one of the kids, took them to—I think. Killed half the parents, took some of us too. You gotta—them back. They’re just kids. They’re just—”

The transmission cut out after that and Shepard watched the blank screen with clenched teeth. There were so many slavers, so many trafficking rings, it was impossible to catch them all. Even when she was with the Alliance, there were always too many fires to put out to ever be able to mount a coordinated attack against slavers. But here, she had a chance. She had to take it. Bracing herself on the table, she exhaled a deep breath.

“EDI, what can you tell me about this planet?” Shepard turned to look at the AI as it popped up, letting it take control of the holo and post statistics and past incident reports.

“Ker is the first planet in the Hekate system, located in the Hades Nexus cluster. It has an orbital period of 3.3 Earth years and a radius of six-thousand, four-hundred-twenty kilometers. With 1.1 standard g’s and an atmospheric pressure of 1.2, the planet offers similar conditions to Earth. However the planet has been too dry to support live above the microscopic level without technological aid.”

“Can you give me anything on the population there?” Shepard asked, hoping for help. “Are there more than just Batarians? I need to know if I’m walking into hundreds or thousands.”

“Exact population is unknown. Approximates are difficult to produce due to the planet being an in-flux hotspot for Batarian slavers and criminals alike. There are a few scattered mining facilities on the surface as the planet is rich in limestone, gypsum, and palladium. What satellites the planet had were shot down to provide a more clandestine area for the illicit operations. Shepard: there is an Alliance bulletin prohibiting all civilian traffic in this system as there have also been encounters with the Geth.”

“Is there _anything_ you can give me? Anything that will give us an edge?”

“The Normandy’s stealth systems can bring us close to the planet undetected. It is possible upon approach to scan for life signs and provide an estimate of enemy numbers. The Batarians likely lack any sophisticated technology to keep off-worlders away aside from brute force and heavy munitions. I advise against entering direct combat with the forces, as it will likely result in heavy casualties.”

Shepard nodded, knowing that she’d made her decision even before asking EDI for particulars. These were kids, dammit. Already subjected to enough trauma without living out the rest of their lives in slavery. With resolve, the Commander put things in motion.

“Joker, plot a course for the Hekate system.”

“Roger that.” Joker replied from the helm. “Stealth systems engaged, ETA two hours.”

“EDI, send a mission brief to the crew and ask Tali and Kasumi to come up to the comm room.” After thinking for a moment about an endgame, she added one more person to the to-be-contacted list. “And get me a link to Admiral Anderson on the Citadel.”

“Messages away.” The AI confirmed immediately. “Would you like me to patch the call through to your private quarters?”

“No, just bring it up here.” Shepard said, not wanting to waste any time. While EDI set up the call, Zaeed turned to leave. Instinctively she reached out and held his arm, but dropped her grip as soon as he made eye contact. “I want you to be with me.”

Her words gave him pause and she rushed to add _for the mission._ He nodded and stayed put, retreating to the corner when the link to Anderson was established. She felt more at ease just seeing him, and out of reflex gave a salute.

“Admiral Anderson.”

“Shepard, it’s damn good to see you.” He said warmly, waving off her formalities. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Sir, I wouldn’t have risked the unsecured channel if I didn’t need to reach you quickly.” The link may have been encrypted against outsiders, but it was the people doing the encrypting she didn’t trust. Cerberus had ears on everything said in almost all of the ship—which meant by extension so did the Illusive Man. “I just got word of a group of children who’ve been kidnapped by Batarian slavers and taken to the planet Ker in the Hades Nexus cluster. I’m only a star system away and I’m planning to launch a rescue, but I sure would feel a lot better if I knew someone was on standby to take the survivors someplace safe for rehabilitation.”

“You know I can’t invest Council resources for a human-only matter, Shepard. Not as a Council member.” He said with the same pseudo-professional voice he used when he was reciting lines but betraying their meaning. The Commander watched as his hands moved on the interface of his comm system just out of eyeshot. “However, if this transmission were to accidentally end up in Admiral Hackett’s hands, I’m sure he could find a ship in the fifth fleet able to help you. But that wouldn’t happen, so I’m sorry to say you’re on your own.”

“Thank you, Anderson.” Shepard allowed a small smile, thankful that it was not Udina who had scooped up the Council position. “I’ve sent the coordinates, we can rendezvous in the Attican Traverse.”

“Be careful out there.” He said seriously, rubbing his shoulder. “Some of us can’t go through losing you twice.”

“I’ll see you soon, sir.” As the call ended, both Tali and Kasumi entered the room with Miranda in tow. Ever since she helped the operative rescue her sister, all of the hardened defenses had slowly come down. They’d spoken, gotten to know each other’s motivations and driving forces. Shepard still had reservations about Cerberus as a whole, but Miranda was okay in her books. She strived to get the job done and stay focused: traits that sometimes meant asking hard questions.

“Shepard, I just read the report.” Miranda announced as the door shut behind them. “Are you sure we can afford to side-track on this mission? We have nearly no viable data and we’re short the army needed to take on slavers. They’re ruthless.”

“Exactly. They’re ruthless, and they’ve just captured a group of children.” Shepard countered. “We all knew the risks when we signed onto this mission, this crew. If we’re willing to sacrifice ourselves to stop the Collectors, we should also be willing to sacrifice ourselves to save the people they’re wanting to take.”

Miranda crossed her arms and exhaled deeply, looking over at the information that had returned to the holo before nodding.

“You’re right.” She conceded. “I’ll go coordinate with the shuttle pilot and emphasize the necessity we have for subtlety.”

When Miranda left, Shepard turned to her tech experts and gave them the rundown, in case they hadn’t gone over everything in the mission brief. Showing them what they had to go on, the Commander admitted that it wasn’t exactly going to be the easiest mission.

“Aww, that’s cute.” Kasumi began, turning to joke with Tali. “Shep actually thinks she has _normal_ missions.”

“Alright, alright.” Shepard reigned them in and beckoned Zaeed over. “We need your expertise here. What can you tell us about the compound, the soldiers, anything?”

Zaeed came up to the table beside her and pulled up the image of the compound for them all to consult. He spent a few minutes looking at it before turning to her.

“Slavers will be mostly Batarian, this far out. No big-timers, not on this planet, but mess with anyone’s flow of credits and you’re gonna piss ‘em off. Piss anyone off with a gun, and they’ll use it. Slavers, more than usual. They took humans, which means they’ll hate them even more.”

“And hate any humans trying to get them back.” Tali offered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It doesn’t take much skill to be a slaver, though.” Zaeed continued, lighting up a cigarette. He wasn’t the only crew member who smoked, but his brand had a distinct smell. He always lit up after they fucked, and so just smelling it reminded her of him, and of what he was capable of doing to her body. It didn’t much help her focus. “They’ll have weapons, probably heavies, but no mechs. What they lack in strategy, they make up for in numbers. If they all come at us at once, you’re pretty much fucked.”

“Noted.” Shepard said with a sigh, studying the dated image of the compound. The smoke kept wafting over to her, to the point where she almost considered stomping it out. But there were more pressing things to address. “Alright. Kasumi, you have the most experience with tapping into security systems and messing up camera feeds. If we want any chance of success, we need to take out any systems that could give us away, so I want you on this.”

“Good luck, Shepard.” Tali said with a nod before heading out of the briefing room. With the team assembled, they began to go over the game plan. It wasn’t going to be easy, but odds had never stopped the Commander before. In fact, as everyone liked to remind her, she was sort of building a career on doing the impossible.

They could only make vague plans of attack until the Normandy finally entered the star system. EDI gave them updated scans of the planet, and that was when the clock began to tick. Exchanges never took long with regards to anything illicit—drugs, weapons, and especially people. Holding anything for too long between point A and point B just increased the odds of being found out. Judging from the high heat signature clustered in a small space, they had located the group. Combined with an accurate schematic of the compound and a confirmation that the base lacked any AA guns, Shepard deemed using the shuttle would be safe.

As everyone geared up and got their guns ready, Shepard gave serious thought to bringing Samara along. Slaving went directly against the Justicar’s Code and would warrant a vicious response from the asari. It also wouldn’t hurt to have someone other than herself with biotic powers coming along, but in the end the Commander decided against it. It was a risky enough mission, and bringing too many people just increased the possibility of detection.

After going through all the checks needed before they could begin the mission, the three of them loaded onto the shuttle and geared up for the drop. Kasumi sat with Shepard on the way over and Zaeed sat across from her, allowing the Commander to steal subtle glances now and then. The fact that he’d elected to bring this up to her instead of simply just let the opportunity pass him by resonated with her. All his recklessness, all his rough exterior and pushing people away and vows that he was ruthlessly deadly, and here he goes soft for a bunch of kids he doesn’t even know. There was good in him, no matter how much it was beaten down by shitty luck and backstabbings.

When the shuttle entered Ker’s atmosphere, Shepard felt the familiar sensation of calm before the storm. A tightness in her chest, like her whole body was stuck in the sensation of holding in a breath. The shuttle was taking the long way around to a drop location that was void of any immediate heat signatures. As they descended and finally touched ground, Shepard waited a moment for the VI on the shuttle to run a scan of the area and tell her they were still in the clear. On her order they opened the hatch and cautiously stepped outside. With guns at the ready, they surveyed the landscape for any sign of danger before heading to the nearby building.

From the looks of it, they were in an abandoned portion of the compound. Ahead of them stood a decaying building that showed the age of this place, but from the construction Shepard wondered if this was initially a mining complex. Beyond the building were scattered pieces of debris, broken segments of cement walls to indicate there was once a battle. The trio approached the building cautiously: there were no windows and the doors were almost rusted off. The room itself was a decent size and provided good cover through the large openings where glass once covered, but it also lacked any link to the security systems.

“I can see the old lines running underneath us, if we can follow them to a hard box or system I can get us access to everything.” Kasumi said confidently, tightening one of her gloves. Ahead of them, across the field, an entrance to the larger complex of buildings awaited them.

“Okay, I say we follow the path we established up until you get a good location, and then you do what you do best.” Shepard ordered, turning on the ammo power on her M-12 Locust.

“ _Second_ best. However good I am at hacking, you _know_ I’m better at stealing.” Kasumi said slyly before motioning for Shepard to lead the way. The Commander risked a small smile at the master thief’s antics before hardening her resolve and setting out.

It was easier to maneuver knowing there were three pairs of eyes on lookout instead of just hers. The dawn was just emerging as they snuck through the slaver’s compound. There were a lot of walls, many of them haphazardly constructed with rusty nails sticking out of various locations. The whole place was void of any natural substance: no grass or plants. Nothing but concrete slabs and decaying metal frameworks that showed the age of the construct. They had passed a few guards but managed to stay out of their sight. Seeing them, though, gave Shepard an idea of what they were up against: mediocre armor that looked like it had been scavenged but decent guns.

When they made it to the main hub, it got a whole lot trickier. There was only so far they could go before they risked being caught—by guards or by cameras—so Shepard played it safe and let Kasumi take over. With a salute, the master thief cloaked herself and disappeared from view entirely. She could keep in radio contact easily, but the Commander told her to avoid it unless it was necessary. Zaeed was still and silent at her side, eyes constantly searching for the slightest hint of danger. When he finally looked over at her he gave a nod. He had her back.

As Shepard looked at him she tried to pinpoint when she had begun to trust him so deeply to have her back. When had he gone from hotheaded terminus systems mercenary who only signed on for the credits to someone who put her at ease? Someone who she felt as close to as her fellow soldiers back when she was in the Alliance? Most times she went down to the Normandy’s engineering deck to see him it was for sex, but she still liked to hear him talk. She always felt better leaving his room—whether from how he treated her body or the way his stories calmed her mind. Reminded her that the world could be crazy and normal regardless of her experiences in the past years. The Commander was getting too comfortable with him for her own good. But the comfort was _such_ a welcome sensation.

“Got it. I’ve got all the cameras playing on a loop.” Kasumi updated in a hushed voice. Shepard looked around the corner to make sure they were still clear from guards. “I’ve also gained remote access to their systems. Shutting down alarms and back-up security…Hmm. They don’t seem to have any mechs linked in. Just to be safe, I’m releasing a VI into their mainframe, courtesy of Tali.”

“Good job.” Shepard said firmly. “The path still seems clear here so get back when you can and we’ll move on the holding cells.”

“Aye-aye.” The thief replied smoothly before going radio-silent again. The Commander rotated her shoulders a few times and checked her gun just for something to do. Now that they had an exact location of the cells, Shepard asked EDI to conduct a scan to give them an approximate of how many people they would be rescuing.

“Scanning. I detect exactly twenty-six life forms in and around the provided co-ordinates. Only eighteen of these appear to be human. Batarian physiology markers make up the remaining eight signatures.”

“Finally, some bloodshed.” Zaeed said gruffly, adjusting his grip on the assault rifle. Shepard raised an eyebrow at him but couldn’t pretend she wasn’t happy to bring harm to the people who would kidnap children.

“Eighteen kids is more than we can take in one shuttle.” Shepard said quietly, almost to herself, but looked to the bounty hunter. “We’re going to have a lot more than a simple firefight holding off the slavers while the shuttle makes a round trip if they find us.”

“Both of us have made it out of worse situations.” He shrugged, leaning back against the wall and sweeping the area once more. Although he was right, Shepard still didn’t like it. All the wait time, it gave them more chances to be overrun. But this was their reality, and she wouldn’t let it impede getting things done.

When Kasumi finally returned to them, they began the second phase of their plan. As they wandered through the dirty halls of the compound, sneaking past the guards who looked less than enthusiastic about their jobs, Shepard began to wonder if it was a set-up. If they were letting them get close enough to take out. Had they found the shuttle? Were they being herded into a kill zone? No, if the shuttle was lost to them Joker would have been in contact immediately to try and find an evac route. He’d gotten her to Ilos, delivered her to the blazing Citadel, pulled her out of a Collector vessel; he would never abandon her. Not on something like this.

Shepard held up her hand in a fist when they drew close to signal the others to stop. Looking around the corner, the Commander took in the sight of the group of guards that awaited them. They stood in front of a heavy steel door that looked like the newest thing in the entire place. Kasumi cloaked herself and prepared for a shadow strike on the guard carrying a shotgun. Shepard took one of the thief’s flashbang grenades and steeled herself before throwing it around the corner.

“Flashbang!” One of the Batarians roared.

When they tried to scatter Shepard dipped out of cover and threw down a singularity. It caught five of them and they dangled in the air while the grenade went off. Kasumi took out her target amidst the confusion while the Commander and the bounty hunter eliminated the two guards who escaped the singularity field. With just enough time, Shepard threw out a warp field and watched as it destabilized the singularity and quickly sparked an explosion. It knocked the five guards to the ground, furthering their disorientation as they scrambled for their senses.

Between the slavers’ shitty armor and their scattered state, the trio made quick work of taking them out. Shepard hadn’t heard any of them manage to call for back-up, but that didn’t guarantee they were safe. Kasumi immediately worked on hacking the cell door, just as anxious as the Commander to get the hostages out as soon as they could. Shepard told Zaeed to go to the end of the hallway and scout just in case the noise had drawn any attention. He disappeared around the corner but came back soon enough with a nod that promised they were in the clear.

“Got it! Alarm disabled, lock bypassed.” Kasumi exclaimed, stepping back to let Shepard pull open the door. When they caught sight of the children inside, she almost wished she hadn’t. “Oh my god…”

The oldest of them couldn’t be more than thirteen. They were all huddled together in this dark, cold cell void of any windows, air circulation, or sustenance. Half of them were splattered in someone else’s blood, all of them dirty. Worst of all, was the way they looked at Shepard. Terror, at this point, was all they knew. The thirteen-year old came forward, her long hair tangled and wild.

“Are you going to kill us?” She asked with a hint of desperation. As if it would be the preferable choice.

“My name is Commander Shepard, I’m with the Alliance military.” A minor fib, just to put them at ease. Military meant safety. Military meant heroes. Heroes always saved the day, and these children so badly needed to be saved. “This is Kasumi and Zaeed, we’re here to take you home.”

“Home…?” One of the kids said distantly, as if the idea of it was impossible to fathom. Shepard knew that despite all their fear, none of them would be gravely injured. Injuries drove down the price. Not that the abuse both physical and psychological didn’t warrant attention, but it was something that could be addressed when they were no longer on a hostile planet.

“We’re going to lead you out of here but there are still a lot of dangerous people here.” Shepard crouched down so she was at the same level as them all and beckoned the children closer. They were hesitant, but looked to the thirteen-year old girl for approval. When she stepped forward, so did they. “What’s your name?”

“Kyleah.” She said with some deep-rooted confidence that proved her resilience.

“Alright, Kyleah. We need everyone to stay together and stay quiet, do you think you could help us with that?” Shepard asked. With a moment’s hesitation, the girl nodded and turned to the others. After exchanging some silent signals, the group of them hesitantly stepped out of the cell into the hallway. Everyone’s eyes went to the dead guards and uneasiness visibly spread amongst them, so Shepard tried to herd them into the other side of the hallway. “Zaeed, I need you watching our backs. Kasumi, stay on our exposed side as we move. Everyone ready?”

“Shepard, a patrol is on its way to your location. I recommend immediate evacuation.” EDI alerted, spurring the Commander into action. Moving to the head of the group, she began to lead them out of the compound. They took careful, calculated steps and stopped more than once to console a crying child. Most of them were six or seven, the perfect age to be trained for a life of servitude. Old enough to care for most of their needs, but still pliable enough to condition. Almost always with pain.

As they moved through the compound back towards where they came in, Shepard gladly killed the guards in their way. Seeing the children first-hand just made her want to kill everyone in the damn compound. But revenge made you reckless, and she did not have that luxury. Every time she fired her gun it brought gasps and worry to the children behind her, but they learned to settle after the seventh guard. They were almost at the exit when Zaeed called for Shepard to stop. She looked back at him over the group and watched as he pressed a finger to his ear and listened. After a moment he came up to her and leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

“Tapped into their communications. They found the dead bastards, and they know we’re here. There’s gonna be a whole lot of Batarians up our ass in a few minutes.”

“Dammit.” She hissed. Eighteen kids. Too many for a single shuttle. Shepard would have to split them up at random and get them one group at a time up to the Normandy. It would be much quicker to just bring the Frigate down planet-side, but it would draw the eye and gun of every slaver in the area. Too much risk for collateral damage. “We’ll head for that building we passed by the shuttle. Dig in there and hold the line while we get them on the shuttle.”

He nodded once, and a part of her felt sick at how pleased she was with his approval. Sectioning that part of herself off, she waited until he’d taken up his position as the rear guard before moving forward again. At the exit of the chamber Shepard paused, listening to a group of slavers on the other side of the tall walls. Turning to the children and pressing a finger to her lips, she motioned for Kasumi to take the lead and everyone began to file past her. The field between the compound and their destination wasn’t too big, but any open space presented danger in a fight. Shepard trusted Kasumi and Zaeed to have eyes on their front, in addition to EDI and the shuttle pilot acting as her eyes on the wider area. The Commander focused on the only entrance to the field while she backed up, following after the others.

“They’re getting away!” A batarian roared as he came into view. He was running at the head of three other slavers, fury in their eyes with a mixture of panic. Shepard immediately started firing and stressed the need for haste on the part of the kids and her crew. “Sound the alarm, dammit!”

“Sir, we tried!” One of the others said in between bursts of bullets. The slavers mostly seemed to be spread out over the base, but despite the master thief’s infiltration of their system, they couldn’t block out communication.

“All units report to the South East wing! The intruders are trying to escape with the cargo!” The leader screamed into this comm. “Get your asses down here _now_ or no one is getting paid!”

Shepard landed a bullet between his eyes and watched as he slumped to the ground, streaking the bloodstain down the already grungy wall. At the sight of their leader falling, the others faltered. The hesitation gave them enough time to herd everyone into the run-down building. It was no bigger than a shipping crate, but it provided them some protection from the incoming small army.

“I don’t want to waste any time. Kasumi, take two at a time and get as many into the shuttle as you can.” Shepard commanded, taking up a position at the window before turning to the children. She watched as Kasumi picked the closest ones and put on a sweet smile, taking their hands and gently leading them out. The Commander caught the eye of the oldest girl and beckoned her over. “Kyleah, I know this is a lot to take in, but I need you to be strong. Can you keep watching over them while we get you guys out of here?”

“We won’t be victims anymore.” She said with quiet strength. Her hands balled into fists and Shepard ached that the galaxy had forced this of the girl. But in a way, Kyleah reminded her of herself. It gave her hope that some of them might make it out of the trauma stage.

“You’re damn right.” Shepard nodded, placing her hand on the girl’s shoulder before turning back to the window. Zaeed had taken out one more of the guards and the last one had apparently fallen back, likely waiting for the inbound reinforcements.

They came in waves, careful not to expend their full force in once attack. Shepard and her crew were an unknown. They couldn’t know what kind of firepower she was housing, or if she had air support. Kasumi made the trek to the shuttle a number of times, each trip bringing more guards into the field. Shepard worked hard to keep tabs on the edges of the battlefield, making sure no one was able to sneak around while Zaeed took on the frontal approach.

“Shep, I’ve got half of them in the shuttle, but we’re pretty much at capacity.” Kasumi announced over her comm. The Commander moved to cover so she could respond, and Zaeed covered her by throwing some incendiary grenades.

“Get to the Normandy. I need you with them to be a familiar face, but get back as soon as you can.” She ordered before switching over to Joker. “I’ve got the shuttle inbound with half of the children. Send Chambers and Chakwas to the hangar to receive them, we need people to put them at ease. And whatever you do, _please_ keep Grunt out of sight.”

“Aye aye, Commander.” Joker said quickly in his rushed professionalism that always meant something was up. “But we’re picking up a whole lot of movement headed in your direction. You better hurry.”

When you’re waiting for something, time always slows down. Double so if while you’re waiting something dangerous is happening. The brain adjusts its perception of time in order to allow your body to hone its reflexes while you make a calculated decision on how to act. So for Shepard, the battle seemed to drag on in the absence of the shuttle; because if anything bad happened their only endgame was death. Zaeed and the Commander fought side by side while Kyleah pacified some of the younger children. A path needed to be clear at all times so when Kasumi returned (and when she did, she ran) they could continue with the remaining kids.

Kasumi’s return and subsequent removal of three children was met with increased hostility from the Batarians. Whether or not they could see the kids being taken group by group was irrelevant because they couldn’t have missed the departure and return of the shuttle. The Batarians knew they were running out of time, and it was making them desperate. Shepard and Zaeed kept the slavers at bay, hitting them with everything they had. The mercenary was right when he said they’d both faced worse odds, but in those circumstances the only lives on the line had been their own. Never civilians. Never innocents.

The Batarians tried to work out strategies, but the Commander and the bounty hunter had been in so many firefights by now that they were always on the same page. The slightest shift in posture was interpreted as a cue, a command, a heads up. If one’s shields went down, the other provided cover in one way or another until they were back to full-functionality. Shepard was using her biotics every chance she could, pushing her amp implant to its limits.

More and more slavers emerged, making Shepard feel like she was battling a wasp nest rather than a horde of slavers. _They just kept coming_. But Zaeed was just as determined as she was to put them down and Kasumi was more than adept at being a lethal escort for the children. There were minor injuries among the fighters, and a number of scuffs and scratches and dents in their armor. But the adrenaline was pushing them, keeping them focused. Only, adrenaline couldn’t create thermal clips out of thin air. And as Kasumi made it to the shuttle with the second last group, things began to crumble.

“Uh, Shepard, hate to be a buzzkill but we’ve got more problems.” Joker reported, his voice crackling in her ear over the din of the battle.

“Talk to me, Joker.” Shepard landed a shot through the neck of a slaver and took cover to pay attention to her pilot’s update.

“There’s a group that’s broken off and they’re heading around the compound for the shuttle.”

“Kasumi, status report.” The Commander looked down at her stash of thermal clips and then over at Zaeed’s. They wouldn’t last much longer, and the M-90 Cain strapped to her back was only good for one shot.

“Just got the second last group in the Kodiak.” The thief’s breath was short, but she didn’t falter. “Heading back now for the last of them.”

“Negative, stay where you are.” Shepard ordered, looking through the large window at the remaining slavers. Too many to just make a run for it. The Kodiak was fortified, but it couldn’t hold out long against the force before them if the thrusters were shot. “We’ve got hostiles headed in your direction, I need you there in case things go south. If they do, get everyone else back to the Normandy, understood? Kasumi, _understood_?”

“I—yes.” She said after a moment. Shepard looked to Zaeed who nodded, not fully understanding that she would give him the same order if things came down to it. Looking back at Kyleah and the one remaining child, the Commander made a call. She could use the heavy weapon on either the slavers in front of them or the ones en route to the shuttle.

“EDI, I need you to give me the exact coordinates on the splinter cell. I need to get in position to fire a heavy weapon but not endanger the shuttle.” She said quickly, heaving the big thing off her back and setting it beside her.

“Updating your nav-point.” EDI replied immediately. “Proceed to the vantage point and adjust your aim south-south-west at an eighty-six degree angle for optimal performance.”

“Kyleah, take this.” Shepard handed the girl her heavy pistol and gave the quickest crash-course on gun use she could manage. If all else failed, the Commander would not leave her helpless. “If it comes down to it, aim for the head. Zaeed—cover me.”

Shepard leapt out of the window and got behind a small eroded wall for cover before sprinting a few feet behind the building to where EDI was leading her. A grenade went off on the battle field that gave a moment of reprieve while she took up a position. The Normandy’s AI monitored the Commander’s arm positioning and alerted her when to fire. For the briefest of moments Shepard thought about the fact that she was entirely putting her faith in an artificial intelligence, but when she pulled the trigger all thoughts shifted back to the mission. The whole battlefield fell silent as the nuclear slug soared through the sky and disappeared behind the tall walls of the compound. Soon after the entire sky lit up and the shockwave was preluded by cut-off screams. Shepard was knocked backwards but scrambled to her feet and raced back to the building.

“We have to move, now.” The Commander began to usher Kyleah and the little boy towards the exit on the other side of the building before telling Zaeed to take the lead. “Kasumi we’re heading your way, make whatever room you can. Joker, how’re we doing?”

“A cruiser heading for the planet just fired at us but those new guns Garrus put in ripped right through it. Safe to say they’re getting pretty serious though, so you know, try to hurry up.” The pilot always had a way of talking in a desperate kind of teasing that let you know when he was really feeling the pressure.

As soon as they left the cover of the building, they were hit with a focused attack from the slavers—more of which had filtered from other areas of the compound. Forced into what little cover there was from the debris scattered beside the building, Shepard looked backwards at the mercenary in the distance and the two children tucked behind him. Bits of the small wall she was behind were breaking off above her head and crumbling onto her. When he met her eyes, she heaved out a breath. This was how it had to be. Putting in her last thermal clip, she used her comm to make sure he would hear her clearly.

“Zaeed, get them to the shuttle.” Shepard said over the din. At first, he flat out refused. A loud, defiant _no_. Her eyebrows furrowed at the word and she repeated herself, talking over his attempts at arguments. He stood up and lobbed three flashbang grenades at the forces that were inching closer, the explosion granting them a moment of reprieve from the gunfire. “Go, get them out of here now! _That’s an order_!”

“ _Fuck_ your orders!” Zaeed yelled back, reloading his gun and taking out three of the disoriented slavers.

Shepard was in the middle of reworking her plan around the mercenary’s stubbornness when she caught sight of something that would have been a problem even if he _had_ listened. The slavers, evidently, had a heavy weapon of their own. It was bigger and more dangerous than a simple grenade launcher but had the same appearance. Same general principle of _big fucking detonation_. It launched through the air and there was no time to think. Zaeed and the kids were too far away from her. They had to be protected. They had to make it.

Using the energy she still had, Shepard summoned a biotic field and wrapped it around the mercenary and the children to shield them from the blast. All her strength, determination, and drive was used to keep that shield up, even as her own shields were shattered by the force. The blast of the explosion ripped through her armor and slammed her against the wall, her body gracelessly slumping to the ground. Her ears were ringing from the blast and dust clouded them from the disintegrated building. Through the pained and blurry haze that remained of her vision she made out the shapes of the ones worthy of protection. The children were safe. Her mercenary was alive.

“ _Get…them…out…_ ” Shepard croaked, wincing at the pain digging in her side as she got up on her hands and knees. It felt like more than just the wind had been knocked out of her. When she felt the breeze reach places inside of her, she knew something was wrong. Reaching down and feeling at her abdomen Shepard realized some of her armor had been blown right off, and shrapnel had gouged open her skin. A good marine would have valued the mission’s success over the life of one individual. A good soldier knew that civilians had priority over comrades.

But Zaeed Massani was not a good soldier.

“Kasumi, you better get your guns ready.” The bounty hunter growled over the comm as Shepard coughed up blood. She tried to apply medigel but incoming bullets forced her backwards. Her vision faded in and out as the yellow armor approached where she was struggling to sit up. Instead she felt the sudden numbness of the medigel spread over her and arms wrap around her body. The mercenary lifted her to her feet and put her arm around his neck while he returned fire to the slavers. “You two, keep close and get ready to run.”

Shepard saw Kyleah nod, holding the borrowed pistol in one hand and the little boy in the other, but when the Commander tried to take a step forward her legs gave out from under her. Without hesitation Zaeed heaved her into his grasp, hooking an arm under her legs and holding her close. Every step he took shot pain through her body from the open wound, but she clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. Her head was still spinning but she registered the bullets still flying at them from behind.

“Commander?” Joker’s voice rang through her comm. “Commander! Come on, don’t leave me hanging.”

With a final push the shuttle was in view, Kasumi standing at the ready with her gun. She immediately provided cover fire while Kyleah and the boy clambered into the Kodiak. The brightness of the daytime gave way to the artificial light in the shuttle as Zaeed stepped inside, pushing through the huddled children to get to the pilot’s section.

“Joker, Shep doesn’t look to good.” Kasumi said quietly as the shuttle door closed. Zaeed was roaring for the pilot to get them out of there while he did his best to ease Shepard into the co-pilot’s seat. She was coughing up more blood and knew that things weren’t looking good. Medigel didn’t always have the same effects on her as it did on others: sure, it may slow bleeding and help tide her over until she could get medical attention, but the numbing agent never worked properly in the same way sedatives never worked properly on her. She was resistant, right down to her biology.

As the thrusters kicked in and the Cerberus pilot got the shuttle off the ground, a barrage of bullets slammed against the hull of the Kodiak. Shepard was fading in and out of consciousness, hands gripping the spot where the pain was worst only to slip away because of all the blood. The Commander had vague memories of holding onto the mercenary, redness on her lips along with his name, but more than anything she had the overwhelming desire to go back and slaughter every last slaver on the planet, the system, the whole damn galaxy.

Shepard faded over the edge some point after the sound of bullets hitting metal stopped. Her body was only semi-conscious of sounds and smells and sights, none of which made sense in her current state. But the world went away for good and when she awoke there was calmness around her. The wound hurt but it was a dull pain, the persistent kind that was there always in small doses. Before she could even try to open her eyes, she smelled smoke. Not the type that came with fires and induced panic: the kind that came from cigarettes smoked by terminus-systems bounty hunters.

“Commander? Can you hear me?” Dr. Chakwas said from her left. Shepard stirred and opened her eyes, shutting them immediately against the brightness of the medbay. The Commander tried to speak but her throat felt dry. “Easy, now. Take your time.”

“ _K…Kids…The children_.” She managed, prying her eyes open properly. Chakwas was holding a data pad beside her, pressing her fingers to the Commander’s wrist.

“They’re fine, Commander. We’re en route to the rendezvous point as we speak.” She assured. Shepard relaxed at the words and finally was able to ease herself up. Clutching at her side, she looked up at the mercenary leaning on the wall across from the table she was on and wondered if he’d been there the whole time. He exhaled a cloud of smoke but looked at her unblinkingly. Whatever he was thinking, he was doing a damn good job of not letting it show. “The shrapnel left some deep lacerations but thanks to Mister Massani’s applications of medigel, I was able to repair the damage. You should still try to avoid rocket launchers in the near future, but the cybernetics Cerberus used will aid in the healing process.”

“Thanks, doctor.” Shepard said sincerely, pressing her fingers to her eyes and taking a deep breath in and out. Through the window of the medbay she could see all of the children huddled in the crew deck. All of her alien crewmates were nowhere to be seen: a good call likely from Miranda who recognized that these children didn’t exactly have the best experience with non-humans.

Shepard still ached in a dozen places, but she wanted to check on all the children. She wanted to see for herself that everyone made it, that they had succeeded. When she began to ease off of the table, Massani came to her side and helped her get on her feet. He said nothing but held onto her a heartbeat too long once she steadied herself. In the back of her mind she knew they’d eventually talk about what happened, but for the moment she settled for pressing her hand to his chest plate and heading out to the main crew deck.

Everyone’s eyes went to the Commander as she approached, but she kept her distance to avoid unsettling the children. Shepard nodded to Kelly and Miranda, silently thanking them for taking care of things while she was out of commission. The children were all grouped around the table and kitchen counter, most eating or drinking and covered in blankets and borrowed oversized sweaters. A few were quietly crying but most of them were silent. From the back of the group Kyleah came over, eyes watering as she wrapped her arms around the Commander.

“Thank you.” The young girl said quietly. Shepard hesitated but hugged her back, placing a hand on the back of her head. “Can you tell us where we’re going?”

“We’re meeting up with an Alliance ship, my friend Admiral Hackett is going to make sure you all are taken good care of.”

“Why we can’t stays with you?” A little girl asked, tugging at the leg of Shepard’s pants. She was one of the first faces Shepard saw in the cell: about four years old with deep brown eyes and dark hair. The little girl lifted up both hands and stretched them up towards Shepard in a grabby motion. It took a moment for her to realize the child wanted to be held. Shepard had expected hesitancy, weariness, and even outbursts from the children given what they’d just endured. Not a blatant request for comforting.

Ignoring the pain in her side, Shepard bent over and picked up the little girl. Cradling her against her chest, the child instinctively curled towards her and wrapped an arm around her neck. The Commander sat down at the table and stroked the girl’s hair. Kyleah sat on the table in front of them, crossing her legs and picking at the hangnails on her fingers.

The Alliance would go through the efforts of tracking down whatever family these children had left, and hopefully posting warnings to nearby colonies to be on the lookout for unfamiliar ships in orbit. Shepard felt her lip split and blood rush to the surface, and she raised her fingers to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry you got hurt.” Kyleah said, her knee shaking as a nervous twitch. Shepard gave what smile she could muster to the girl and shook her head once.

“I’m not.” The words made the girl look down at her feet. Shepard was absently rocking the child in her arms, wondering what part of her was being unlocked to know how to tend to the kid.

“When we leave here, I’m not going to see you ever again am I?” Kyleah said with her eyes still downcast. It struck something in the Commander, and when she looked at the young girl she saw something familiar. She remembered herself just a few years older looking up at Anderson, knowing that she didn’t feel so alone because he kept tabs on her.

“You can if you want to.” Shepard replied, composing a quick message on her omni tool to Admiral Hackett in regards to the girl. “And let me know when you end up enlisting.”

“W-What makes you think I’m going to join the Alliance?” Kyleah asked, leaning back a little as if startled by Shepard’s insight.

“I know the look.” She said with an approving nod. Kyleah might have smiled, if the circumstances were different, but instead she nodded back. Shepard didn’t know if she was one of the kids who had lost her parents, or didn’t have any in the first place, but none of that mattered. If Shepard could help someone the way she was helped, there was no second guessing whether she should. Kyleah announced she was going to ask for some food before sliding off the table.

Shepard tended to the child in her arms, wondering what her name was. Where she came from, who her parents were, if she had a happy ending awaiting her or a complicated life amongst rehoming agencies between the years of therapy that would be needed. Would she fall through the cracks of the system as she got older? Would she be strong like Kyleah or crumble under the pressure like countless others? Heaving out a sigh Shepard pushed those thoughts away, pressing her lips to the top of the child’s head and humming a wordless lullaby from a family life she never had. Maybe she picked it up in a vid, maybe she heard it in passing. But the tune came and carried to the small group, quieting the conversations around her. When she looked up she saw that the mercenary’s eyes were glued to her. He wasn’t abashed at the gesture, and couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Whether it was because of her injured state or something to do with her holding the child, she didn’t know. Rubbing the back of his neck, he finally turned away from her and braced himself on the counter in the kitchen area.

A few minutes later he appeared at her side, silently placing a glass of water on the table in front of her before heading towards the elevator. She drank from it once he was gone, trying to ignore all the thoughts flying around in her head about him. Miranda approached her to recap the mission and talk about what the next step was. Shepard had promised to help Thane with his son on the Citadel, and Samara had something she needed to discuss, so there were still a few things that needed to be done before heading for the derelict reaper and the IFF within it. Shepard felt even more apprehensive about that mission than she did the Collector ship. Mostly _because_ of the clusterfuck that was the mission on the Collector ship.

It wasn’t long before the Normandy approached the Alliance vessel in the Attican Traverse. Together with the human crew, the children were taken upstairs to the CIC while a bridge connected the airlocks and the chamber was de-pressurized. When the doors opened the Commander of the vessel came aboard, eyeing the child still attached to Shepard while they discussed the details. Shepard was promised a full report and the transfer began. Most of the kids were hesitant about going aboard yet another unfamiliar ship, but with Kyleah’s help the tantrums were kept to a minimum. There were a number of child trauma specialists aboard courtesy of Admiral Hackett, which put Shepard at ease. One of them helped pry the little girl away from the Commander, albeit begrudgingly. Kyleah was ringing her hands on the threshold of the airlock, so Shepard lay her hand on the girl’s shoulder and promised to keep in touch.

Before the airlock closed, the Alliance Commander took the time to promise that despite the bureaucratic bullshit, many in the Alliance knew she hadn’t turned her back on them. It meant more to her than he could ever know. But the airlocks closed and the ships parted ways and Joker set a course for the Citadel. Many of the crew were sporting smiles and congratulating her on the successful mission. As they should: it was a win, a big win, but all Shepard could think about was how many others must have been on that planet. How many they must have left behind, or missed by hours. Heading through the CIC she tried not to grip at her sore ribs, tried to appear whole and together to keep up morale.

When Shepard finally reached her cabin she was allowed a moment of reprieve. Under Hackett’s watch, the children would be safe. Clutching at her side, she slowly took off her uniform. From the closet she pulled out more comfortable clothing, tossing the baggy shirt on the couch while she pulled on some sweatpants. She was in the midst of tying them when the door to her quarters opened. The bounty hunter walked in unannounced, eyes immediately going to the healing injury on her torso.

“Keep up your heroics, you won’t be around to save the goddamn galaxy.” He chastised, scratching at his jaw. Shepard crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look. She wanted to call him out for disobeying a direct order, for compromising the mission, because she knew his motivations had been personal. Selfish. The kind of selfishness that put people in danger.

“You couldn’t have fought back against anyone while you were carrying me around.” Shepard said sternly, though being in her bedroom half-dressed lessened the authoritative discipline she was going for. Looking him in the eye, she lowered her voice. “You should have left me.”

The mercenary didn’t reply. Instead, after grinding his teeth for a moment he grabbed her shirt off the couch and handed it to her. The action was unexpected: she assumed him showing up here of all places was a precursor to an attempt at hooking up. But putting _on_ clothes wasn’t exactly the way that worked. Shepard hesitated a moment before pulling the fabric on, wincing slightly at the necessary extension of her muscles. Flipping her hair out from under the collar of the shirt, she watched as he sighed and begrudgingly told her to get some rest. He turned from her to leave and rubbed the back of his neck before half-turning back to her and staring at her feet.

“Ain’t got it in me to leave you.”

The mercenary took one step away from her when Shepard’s hand reached out to grab his. He looked down at the gesture, and the Commander fought against the urge to let go, to be in this constant state of anxiety about what she might do to mess things up. Give her a battle and she would fight to the death. Assign her a mission and she would pay for it in blood and sweat and spent ammunition. But she hadn’t quite learned what to do when given emotional attachment to someone as emotionally distant as Zaeed Massani. So with more vulnerability than she ever cared to harbor, she managed three words.

“ _Then don’t leave_.” At this, she let go of him. He was free to go, to call it quits or brush her off. It was his chance to escape, if this was suddenly no longer what he wanted. Instead, he nodded once and motioned for her to go to bed. He used his omni-tool to lock her door, and waited until she pulled back the covers on the bed before taking off all his armor. She slowly laid down, trying to ignore the dull pain, and stared up at the great abyss through the window on the ceiling.

For Shepard, the nights were always the worst. The thing about interstellar travel is that in space, every moment is the middle of the night. The star-system induced fluke of daytime could never be found off-planet, because the natural state of the universe was night. Darkness. And in that darkness, all her worst moments surfaced to haunt her subconscious mind. For the first time in so long that she couldn’t remember, her bed wasn’t empty. When the mercenary settled in beside her she could comfortably turn on her uninjured side, feeling his presence behind her. A subtle reminder that at least for now she wasn’t in it alone.

As a Commander she was still upset that he would risk the success of a mission for his personal attachment, but as a person she was touched by the gesture. Zaeed Massani was a roaring hurricane, capable of outrageous destruction and death, and she was in the eye of the storm. Impervious to all damage. She was the sacred ground he couldn’t break. And that shift in attitude, the special treatment, it made her realize that however this had started, she knew how she wanted it to end.

“I don’t want this to just be sex.” Shepard admitted in a small voice, her words reaching out into the darkness that surrounded them. The distant hum of the engines and thrusters and drive core and generators served as the gentle backdrop. Zaeed audibly shifted around, heaving out a breath.

“Yeah, well.” He began, rustling behind her as he made himself comfortable. “It never was.”

Shepard let the words hang for a minute before feeling the tug on her heartstrings. In the darkness her eyes had only just adjusted, so everything was still silhouettes and guessing games. Despite the pain she turned towards him, finding his gaze on her form in the dimness. Placing a hand on his chest, she moved forward so she could kiss him. It lacked all of the ferocity and impatience that they usually met each other with. It was a kiss meant for lovers, meant for confessions, meant for the moment when night is just turning to dawn. The in-between infinity of _almost_ that perpetually brought out the sincerity in people. The unadulterated truth. She kissed him with softness and deepened the gesture with longing. With reverence. It was slow and drawn out and made her feel things she didn’t quite have words for. And as his hand trailed up her side and they pulled away to the sound of each other’s gentle breaths, she could see him clearly through the darkness.

When she began to turn back he moved as well, letting his arm softly wrap around her middle. He made sure that his touch didn’t graze the mending parts of her. Shepard replayed the words in her mind and moved backwards until his chest pressed against her back. The Commander reached down and laced her hand with his, closing her eyes and feeling at peace. The intimacy was unexpected, something so foreign she’d almost forgotten what it was like. To feel wanted in a way that wasn’t just carnal passion. Not just sinful temptation. The way he held her felt more like piety, like a respectful holiness. She was his sacred ground, a thing to be marvelled at and worshipped. Not in a way that would lead to redemption or absolution, but rather a necessary counterpart to fill in the gaps.

A saint for a sinner.


	5. Chapter 5

A shaky breath left her lungs as the Commander straightened up in the elevator. The doors opened and she walked into the main hallway of the engineering deck. Wiping the cold sweat from her forehead, she took three steps towards the mercenary’s door before stopping. It was late, too late. It wasn’t his fault she was plagued by these night terrors. He shouldn’t have to lose sleep just because she did. Staring at the door for a few more moments, Shepard tensed up and turned back.

Engineering could provide comfort for her too, in a sense. When she entered the area there was thankfully no one still awake. It felt strange without her Quarian crewmember schooling the ex-Alliances on how to _really_ tune a ship. But in that moment, with the adrenaline-backed panic still rattling her system, she welcomed the loneliness of the place. Shepard drew close to the monumental drive core, gazing up at its pulsing presence and feeling some reprieve. The pounding humming of the element zero at work helped to drown out the sound of her own thoughts. Leaning backwards against the console, she sank her head into her hands and took deep breaths, letting the sound of physics drown out the gunfire and years-old screams.

It helped to put her at ease. The Normandy had been more of a home for her than any shitty apartment ever had. Sometimes it made her heart ache, thinking about the original Normandy that lay in pieces on Alchera. It had been down there for two years, preserved in the planet’s atmosphere, before anyone had even set foot in the wreckage. No visitors, no friendly faces, just coldness and a frozen-in-time existence. Kind of like her. She had missed _so much_ in the two years, had been taken down at such a pivotal point in not only her life but the galactic history. Shepard may have survived Elysium, may have been delivered back to the world of the living, but things could always go wrong. She could always, _always_ fail.

“You know they make pills to keep you asleep, right?” The sudden appearance of the mercenary’s voice punched a hole through the negative thoughts she was spiraling into. Jerking her head up out of reflex, she settled at the sight of him and ran her hands through her hair.

“Sedatives don’t really work on me.” She grumbled, meeting his eye. It still surprised her to see him out of his armor (most times it was only if both of them weren’t wearing anything at all) but she would never complain. It was almost like a secret, a gift, to see him unburdened by high-grade metal shells and joints. She much preferred the sight of his inked skin, toned muscles, and slightly disheveled hair. He had on casual pants and a black tank, the fabric hugging his body as he walked up and leaned against the wall adjacent from her.

Zaeed was starting to settle into the idea of being comfortable. Of letting his guard down around her, as evident by the plainclothes. Some of his belongings had spilled into her cabin, small things equivalent to tree carvings by teenagers that said _Jake was here_. A blip in the grand scheme of things, but proof aside from hickeys and bruises that they existed in spaces together. Even within his own room, some belongings and recent purchases were scattered around the place. No longer were the majority of his things stuffed in a go-bag, waiting to be carted away at the first sign of trouble. If she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed that he was getting attached.

“Skyllian Blitz again?” He asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Shepard nodded, wondering if he was already awake when she’d come down to the fourth floor. The Commander could imagine it well enough: the mercenary sitting up working on modding a gun when he hears the elevator, her hesitant footsteps to his door, then her retreat to the drive core. She knew for a fact he had surveillance on the eezo core, and would no doubt be able to tell what was up with her by the posture alone. And yet he came anyways, despite how awkward the both of them found this consolation nonsense.

“You’d think a two-year death sleep would put that shit behind you, but I guess it’s better than having nightmares about whatever the hell my afterlife was.” Shepard joked with a hint of desperation. Turning away from him she looked down at the drive core console’s diagnostics, the bright blue holographic interface constantly updating its stats. “I just wish I could get out of my damn head sometimes.”

Closing her eyes, she let the hum of the core fill up her ears. Without warning a hand pressed to her lower back and slid to her waist. If there was anyone who knew how to demand her attention, it was him. The bounty hunter pushed her hair to one side and slid the strap of her dress down. Starting at her shoulder, he pressed determined kisses up her neck and jawline and stopping only at the spot below her ear. Gently pressing his teeth to her earlobe, his body pressed against her back.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was low and dangerous and raw, reaching her core and sparking a fire within her. Shepard swallowed hard and tilted her head backwards ever so slightly.

“You.” Shepard breathed. _I want you on me. I want you in me. I want you to touch me, kiss me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me_. “I want you.”

Zaeed didn’t need to be told twice. He dipped a hand between her legs, sliding his index and middle finger around her clit. At first, his movements were slow and languid. Fingers worker her in lazy strokes, his free hand pulling at the top half of her dress so he could touch her bare skin. His breaths were steady and warm against her neck, the ever-stoic presence in stark comparison to the half-moans bubbling in her throat at his touch alone.

A part of her was worried about being walked in on. A part of her was turned on at the idea. It wasn’t exactly the first time they’d been risky, nor the most conspicuous location. It was only a week ago that he’d inadvertently fulfilled the dream that sparked this entire relationship; finding her late in the kitchen and christening the counter with their steep breaths and tense bodies. It took everything in her to keep quiet. But here, between the doors and the drive core, she had a bit more vocal liberty.

Shepard could feel the length of him pressing against her ass, so she grinded against him. It was partially to let him know as blatantly as she could what she wanted, but it was also to see him falter for the briefest moment at the sensation. He let out a low growl and immediately hiked up the hem of her dress, reclaiming his hands and rustling his clothes behind her. Pushing her forward against the console, he kicked her feet further apart and pulled the fabric of her underwear to one side. The mercenary then began, with astronomical self-control, to drag his tip up and down her slit.

The Commander had half the mind to kill him for it. For the teasing. A large part of her couldn’t take it, couldn’t bear the seconds that he wasn’t in her. She wanted to know that feeling again, but understood that the more he pushed her the less she could focus on anything other than the way he made her body feel. There was a kindness to the cruelty. She let out a small whimper and slid her hands onto the console, gripping the far end while he pushed her to her limits.

Only, he had his limits too. Pressing a hand to her lower back he worked to line up with her entrance. Without hesitation he pushed inside of her, the sensation causing the Commander’s fingers to tighten around the edge of the console. The mercenary spent a few moments building the right momentum and responding to the subtle shifts of her body before he nudged his nose against her jaw. It was such a frequent feeling, the bounty hunter filling her up, that by all accounts she should have gotten used to it. There were only so many ways to fuck. Yet she never grew tired, never stopped yearning for it, for him. His hands, all bruised and scratched, roughly ran up her sides and down her arms to the surface of the console. With his strong arms caged around her, he covered her hands with his so their fingers could lace.

He was all that she knew, all that she felt; the smell of his recently smoked cigarette lingering with faded cologne and filling up her senses. As his hips crashed against hers with increasing ferocity, he coaxed sounds from her throat by biting all the familiar places. She’d never had a lover so attentive, so determined to make her feel as much as possible. In a strange way the bounty hunter was the most polite lover she’d known: he always insisted on making her come hard, often, and _always_ first. As if anything else would be a disservice.

And shit, did he know how to get her to that point. The act became the only thing that mattered to him, with a clear goal that he was very determined to accomplish. Shepard’s back dipped to make things feel better for the both of them, and she took pleasure in the guttural moan that slipped past his defenses. She felt the sound reverberate from his chest through her back, this affirmation that she drove him just as crazy as he did her.

Shepard leaned forward, flattening her chest against the console and letting her eyes close. Zaeed straightened up and settled his hands on her waist, gripping so tight she would have bruises. The Commander began to consider that she’d never let anyone dominate her like she allowed the bounty hunter to. In the past it was always everything on her terms, every move dictated by her. Somehow, without words or even thoughts, he’d managed to destroy the norm and set his own standard. Whatever would come in the future, _whoever_ would appear, Shepard was certain that no one would ever again be able to take his place or touch her in this way.

Any further thoughts she might have had were choked out as Zaeed began to fuck her ruthlessly. Desperate moans slipped from her mouth amidst her choppy breaths. The mercenary dragged his palm up her back until he reached the hair at the back of her neck, grabbing hold of the underside and heaving her backwards against him. Shepard’s nails scratched at the console as she was forced to straighten up.

“ _Zaeed._ ” The syllables came out in a low moan, the Commander reaching one hand backwards to settle on the back of his head. He bit at her neck before moving close to her ear. Despite his fast breathing he didn’t drop the pace; just kept moving in exactly the right place to multiply the tension in her core.

“I want you to come for me.” He demanded in a raspy voice. Plenty of times the command alone had been enough to undo her: how badly did she want him that his voice, his wishes of her, could be such a powerful trigger? But Shepard was defiant, and fought against the moans in her throat. Turning her head as much as she could, their lips touched as she managed a retort.

“Then make me.”

It was a taunt that she might have regretted, should the result have been anything other than blissful release. He released his grip on her hair, kissing her deeply before reaching his hand back down between her legs. The bounty hunter knew he was a weapon against her in a number of different ways, and used everything in his arsenal to get her off. He spoke in the voice that drove her crazy, knowing how much she loved to hear him.

“ _I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stand up._ ” He vowed, though from their position he may end up fulfilling that promise. “ _And in the morning I’m going to taste you, run my tongue in all the places that drive you wild. Is that what you want, Shepard? Do you want to see how many times I can make you come?_ ”

“ _Yes._ ” She moaned loudly, her whole body tensing up as she stood on the precipice. The Commander didn’t know what was getting her off more: what he was proposing or the way he said it. Whatever the combination, her body couldn’t take it. She was stammering the response over and over, going crazy at the feeling of him against her, inside her, beside her. He had infiltrated her entirely, and as her legs began to shake she cried out. The climax rippled through her with such force that she collapsed forward, suspended only by the strength of the mercenary.

He followed almost immediately, burying his face in her neck as they unraveled together. Shepard reveled in every second, every shake, every shallow strained breath. Her name left his lips like a confession, and the two of them slowly came down from the racing hearts and overworked lungs and diminishing sensations. When he pulled away from her he made certain to keep an arm around her middle, just in case she needed the support. Shepard weakly tried to fix her clothing on the off chance they ran into anyone on the way to the elevator. When they left she would make sure he came with her: he needed to make good on his promises.

When she could finally support herself (albeit on questionably wobbly legs) Shepard turned to face the mercenary. Leaning against the console, she met his eyes and marvelled at the half-lidded way he looked at her. As if his lust for her couldn’t ever be satiated.

She reached out and grabbed hold of his shirt, pulling him towards her. He stepped forward willingly and settled his hands on either side of her. Without missing a beat she slid a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. His tongue dominated hers as she locked her other hand behind his head. Shepard had kissed plenty of boys in her lifetime, and many of them she regretted. Back when she was young and learning her place in the world, her worth. She had assumed that any contact with boys was good contact; she tricked herself into thinking that the touches were wanted and well-placed. Now, looking back, Shepard almost felt sick at the boys she let kiss her. Especially when something like this, someone like _him_ awaited her.

When they no longer tasted anything save each other they pulled away, Shepard’s hands settling on his cheeks. He looked her in the eye and Shepard heard Joker’s words in her head: _It’s nice that you’re finally settling down with a version of yourself. You know, a little angrier, but still_. His hands settled on her waist and suddenly Shepard was overwhelmed with a deep-rooted feeling that made her almost scared. She had laughed off the pilot’s words in the moment, but in front of the drive core in his grasp Shepard could entirely see it happening. Her, settling down with the mercenary. Bekenstein. A beach, a dog, and hell she could even see children if he was up for it. Her heart skipped a beat at a realization that hit her full force.

 _I think I’m falling in love with him_.

With every bit of strength in her she beat down the thought, unable to deal with something like that. Not at present. Not tonight. Let that thought be left for a later time when she could consider the likely fact that he wouldn’t ever feel the same. Attachment maybe, but given what he’d been through she didn’t doubt that he’d vowed not to ever love again. So she would take the intimacy, the sex, the comfort, the attachment. She would revel in and accept all of those things, but she would put love on the backburner. For now, she led him to the elevator.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I have to go, but we should do this again.” Shepard straightened up from her spot on the wall and uncrossed her arms. Subject Zero watched her with a blank look, no evidence of the telling conversation they’d just had, but called out when the Commander turned to leave the subdeck.

“Wait, my turn with the questions.” She said harshly, watching as Shepard paused in her step to listen. “People usually walk by now. Why are you _really_ asking all these things?”

“I’ve never met anyone like you.” Shepard said truthfully, shrugging her shoulders. The Commander didn’t need a degree or training like the Yeoman to recognize an abusive history. She didn’t want to spontaneously solve all the biotic’s problems, but she did want to show Jack that not everyone in the galaxy was out to fuck you over. A lot of them, sure, but not all of them.

“Whatever. It’ll come back to what you can take. It always does.” Jack waved her off and settled down on her makeshift bed but let a smirk take over her face. “By the way, Massani, huh? Knew you weren’t as tight-laced as you try to be. Should have known you’d have a weakness for the bad boys.”

“I’ll see you later, Jack.” Shepard laughed, shaking her head and heading up to the CIC. The Yeoman greeted her along with a few of the crew, but what made the Commander smile was the muted sound of humming coming from the research lab. Upon entering she found Mordin hunched over a series of test tubes and petri dishes, a datapad in one hand and a torch in the other.

“Doctor.” Shepard greeted, approaching the research terminal to download new biotic boosts for the crew and herself. It had been a while since she spoke to him, so while the schematics were uploading she wandered over. “Have you got a minute to talk?”

“Actually, wanted to talk. Medical matters.” Mordin set down the things in his hands and fidgeted with a few of the tubes before walking around the table to face her. “Aware that mission is dangers, different species react differently to stress. Aware that you and Zaeed are sexually active—suggest caution.”

“I intend to be cautious, doctor.” The Commander crossed her arms over her chest and straightened up a little. People like Jack or Miranda didn’t care much about her personal decisions and didn’t remark about them save for a comment here or there. But Shepard knew that there would be some people (Kelly, for instance) who viewed it as not the healthiest decision. “But Zaeed…he’s important to me. You’re not going to scare me off.”

“Of course, hormones.” Mordin said simply, nodding approvingly. “Will be here to assist with any lacerations or contusions. Rough personality likely translates into…ahem…other areas in life as well.”

“You have a recommendation as a doctor?” Shepard asked, trying and failing to hide her laugh. The notion of explaining Zaeed’s prevalence for manhandling and roughness clearly made Mordin uncomfortable, as if saying it aloud would be insulting to Shepard.

“Your body is excellent example of peak human physiology, compounded with Cerberus cybernetics that will lead to more resilience than normal. Still, sexual preferences may result in injuries that would be counter-productive during missions. However, biotic ability also may provide benefits.” Mordin paused to bring up his omni-tool and tapped away at it while Shepard wondered how she’d been suckered into a sex talk with a Salarian doctor. “Forwarding booklet to your quarters. Includes diagrams, exercises, inventive uses of mass effect fields. Can supply oils or ointments to reduce discomfort. Gave EDI electronic relationship vids to use as necessary.”

“Wait a minute…” The Commander eyed him suspiciously and took a half-step back, shaking her head. “You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Shocking suggestion!” Mordin exclaimed, eyes going wide. “Doctor-patient confidentiality a sacred trust. Would never _dream_ of mockery.”

“Uh-huh.” Shepard shook her head, not bothering to fight back a smile. Mordin eventually let one slip as well, before returning to his experiments and adjusting the microscope.

“Enjoy yourself while possible, Shepard. Will be here studying cell reproduction. Much simpler—less alcohol and mood music required.”

The Commander fought off the urge to quietly say _believe me, no mood music is required_. Instead she headed back out to the elevator and went down a floor to the crew deck. She had been busy completing mission reports, despite the fact that it wasn’t necessary for her aboard a Cerberus ship. Still, she liked the comfort of routine that it provided and wanted to keep the skill handy for what she hoped would be an eventual return to the Alliance.

There was laughter and music and loud voices coming from the main crew area but the voices quieted immediately when Shepard came into view. Raising an eyebrow and her crewmates, Shepard crossed her arms and looked around at them.

“Either something terribly bad has just happened or you were talking about me.” She said with feigned irritation. The crew knew her well enough by now not to be spooked by the show.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Garrus said quickly, drawing her attention.

“You’re all talking about Shepard and Zaeed,” Grunt stammered, a bottle of ryncol in his hand. There were at least a dozen just like it on the table, all of them empty. Shepard raised an eyebrow at the sight. “As if you’re the ones who have to listen to mating noises coming from his room all the time.”

“That’s not exactly how you keep things under the radar, Grunt.” The turian sighed, shaking his head. Shepard might have been bothered that she was the topic of discussion, but a small part of her was satisfied about it. That despite all their coyness their affections for one another hadn’t gone unnoticed. Garrus was, as always, a true friend when it came to the matter. Entirely supportive, but that didn’t mean he was above embarrassing her now and then in front of the mercenary. Regardless, he went out of his way to befriend Zaeed at first because he knew she cared about him—though the two got along far better than she’d anticipated.

“No disrespect meant, Shepard.” Jacob said smoothly, finishing the drink in his hand. The Commander relaxed and nodded, promising she wasn’t offended. Despite the soldier’s initial apprehensiveness, he’d grown to trust the mercenary as she had—due in large part to trusting Shepard’s judgement. If there was to be a knife in the back, it wouldn’t come from Zaeed. “But you have to admit, it does make for good conversation.”

The joke made the crew laugh, a gesture that evoked a cough from Thane. It made her worry at first but he quickly recovered and held a hand up to promise he was okay. In talking with Thane after rescuing his son on the Citadel, the drell had offered her an old blessing for lovers from his culture. Some of the words were too long forgotten for her translator to make sense of them, but some part of her understood the deep meaning. _It is a rare gift indeed to receive the affections of a Siha_ , he’d told her. It took her aback, this notion that he viewed her as a warrior-angel of a drell Goddess. She was quick to vow she wasn’t quite as worthy of such praise, but Thane had promised despite her own beliefs Zaeed certainly approached her as if he was aware of this truth.

“If you were Krogan, I would pull out your spines for that. Shepard is my battle-mother, and to insult her is to challenge her strength.” Grunt slurred, sitting back in his seat and finishing off the bottle of ryncol. Everyone’s eyes turned to him and Shepard looked at him with an amused grin.

“I’m your battle- _what_?” She asked incredulously.

“Battlemaster, Shepard. Keep up.” He burped. Tali, Kasumi, and Jacob were in stitches at the mistake, leaving it to Thane to explain what had happened.

“You referred to her as your battle-mother, not battle-master.” Thane said calmly, keeping his composure much better than the rest of them. The Krogan groaned but said nothing in response, instead searching for another bottle of ryncol.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight.” Shepard said lightly, pulling the last bottle out of his reach.

“I’ll be fine, I am _Krogan_.” He argued, trying to reach from the bottle. Shepard pulled it away and raised her eyebrows at him.

“ _Grunt_.” She chided, staring him down. He growled for a moment before caving and sitting back in his chair. Shepard trusted that the Krogan could handle more alcohol than any of them, but she _really_ didn’t want to have to ask Rupert to clean up vomit. Especially not from ryncol-drinking, mostly because it was so incredibly flammable.

“Hey, no fair, you changed the topic.” Kasumi said after a moment, crossing her arms at Shepard.

“All the things we’ve seen, and you want to talk about my personal life?” The Commander challenged, looking around at her crewmates. Tali took the hint well enough, realizing that such things weren’t exactly the type of conversation Shepard wanted to have in the presence of everyone.

“We should get Samara to tell her what she said to us.” Tali offered, moving towards the Commander and steering her towards the asari’s claimed quarters.

“This is ridiculous.” Shepard said weakly as they entered, Kasumi in tow. Samara was meditating as usual but stopped at their approach, getting to her feet smoothly and offering the three of them a warm smile.

“What can I do for you?” The Justicar asked in a cool voice as the door closed behind them. Shepard settled a little but still found the prospect of having her love life up for discussion a little unnerving. It was hard to tell who was more supportive of Shepard’s romantic affiliation—Kasumi, or Tali. The rare times Shepard actually did want to talk about something she went to them. Tali understood her more because they had known each other longer, but Kasumi provided much needed levity to the conversations that could sometimes turn heavy. _Zaeed’s no Jaccob, but Shep did good. He’s got a nice ass,_ the thief would say.

“We’re trying to talk to Shepard about Zaeed, but she’s being stubborn as usual.” Tali explained with a huff. “The way you spoke about them earlier was so eloquent; I think it would do her good to hear it.”

“I believe I said Shepard and Zaeed have as many similarities as they do differences. Passion, intimacy, affection, these things are easy enough to find in the galaxy. Balance, however, is not. To complement another on a level as deep as one’s core is rare, and the two of them have been blessed with such symbiosis.”

It was strange to hear Samara’s speech and know it was directed at her. That someone would think that so casually about her was humbling. But it also made Shepard nervous, especially considering the feeling she’d felt two nights prior down by the drive core.

“Which just makes it even sadder to see the way he looks at you.” Kasumi said, settling into a chair and pulling her knees up close. Shepard’s brow furrowed and she absently fidgeted with her clothes.

“What do you mean?” The Commander asked, trying not to let her overwhelming curiosity come through.

“He doesn’t think he deserves you, Shepard.” Tali explained in a hushed voice, like a parent telling bad news to an unsuspecting child. “You fit together so well but when you’re not looking, he has this look on his face like he thinks any moment will be the last.”

“I think you guys are reading a _bit_ too much into this whole thing.” Shepard said quickly, not wanting to even entertain such a notion. Because for him to present that, to truly feel that, would suggest deeper emotion than she was ready to acknowledge.

“ _Please_ , he basically confessed the whole thing to Garrus the last time we made port.” Kasumi said point-blank, scratching her neck. Shepard’s eyes went wide.

“ _What?_ ” She hissed. “Why was Garrus asking him about stuff like that?”

“If I understood rightly, there was much alcohol involved and the mercenary was forthright on his own accord.” Samara said patiently. The Commander’s insides began to squirm.

“I don’t know how much more blunt I can be about my intentions.” Shepard said in a quiet voice, running her hand through her hair and leaning back against the wall. “What am I supposed to do, fall at his feet and tell him _I’m yours_?”

“That’s sort of the problem.” Tali said, tilting her head. “He thinks you belong to the galaxy, not to him.”

 _How do you even respond to a statement like that?_ Shepard knew that she put her work first and that much of her time was spent doing mission-related things, but it actually pained her to think Zaeed could imagine she wouldn’t set fire to the terminus systems for him. That she wouldn’t fight through a thousand Batarians or Collectors or husks for him. Samara was right when she said they balanced each other, but the similarities were more prominent to Shepard. Because Zaeed Massani was as vengeful as he was reckless: he had risked the lives of innocent children to keep her alive. And despite her constant attempts at diplomacy, despite her favour for the high road, Shepard had _no_ doubt in her mind that for her mercenary, for her resurrected bounty hunter, she would break rules and bones and spill blood and slit throats. She would be ruthless if it meant keeping him. _We do terrible things for the ones we love_.

Was that what it would come to, then? To reassure him would she finally have to confront these deep-rooted feelings that came with the label that scared her most?

“Kasumi…” Shepard began, looking down at her feet. She knew that no matter how it was phrased and no matter the eventual response, her question would become a source of teasing in the future. “How did you know you were in love with Keiji?”

“When being around him made me feel better than pulling off high-risk heists.” She said slyly, smirking at the Commander. “Look, Shep, it’s pretty clear this is freaking you out. But take it from someone who spends a lot of time observing others…Whatever you’re feeling, it isn’t one sided.”

“Samara, what was it you said to us early about Shepard’s aura?” Tali interjected, drawing everyone’s attention. The asari paused for a moment and then smiled, looking up at the Commander.

“It is a bright and unique thing, glowing with the fiery passion of seasoned soldier.” Samara said as the Commander shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “But it never burns as bright as when you’re near him.”

Shepard was hit with the full force of the inescapable conclusion of the night. One, she was deeply and severely attached to the mercenary. Two, she evidently wasn’t doing the best job of making him realize this, despite her half-confession after infiltrating the slave ring. She wanted to fix this, change things so he was aware just how much she relied on him, wanted him, _needed_ him. But to do that would take more courage than blowing up a reaper. Still, she had to tell him for better or worse. She had to tell him before it was too late.


	6. Chapter 6

“ _Enkindle this, criminal scum._ ”

Shepard rolled her eyes at the vid, trying to fathom how something as ridiculous as _Blasto: Eternity is Forever_ could be so successful. Mindless as it was, she supposed that was the point of the show. Its installments offered something plain and harmless to distract the viewers from whatever their problems were. Though, as Zaeed had just demonstrated for the hundredth time, there were _much_ better ways to distract yourself. Still, the fact that he’d wanted to do something as obscenely domestic as watch a vid with her was touching.

The Normandy was docked on Illium to refuel and undergo a quick maintenance run, so the crew had most of the day to themselves. In her cabin, the mercenary was sitting upright on what had long since become his side of the bed, one arm behind his head. Shepard was curled up against him, her head on his lap. Zaeed slowly drew his fingertips up and down her arm absently, sometimes going all the way up to her neck. It made her skin tingle and goosebumps take hold of her in the most pleasant way. If Shepard closed her eyes, if all she heard was the vid and all she felt was his skin on hers, she could imagine the war was over. The reaper threat defeated, the two of them in some ridiculously booby-trapped house (Zaeed was _way_ too suspicious not to have modded his home), being lazy and unproductive on a weekday afternoon. It sickened her how much she wanted that.

But the present wasn’t all too bad. The holo was playing the vid on a smaller screen than her terminal provided but it wasn’t like Shepard was overly invested in the show. She wrapped one arm across his lap, slipping her fingers below his tank to trace designs on his side. He let out a content sigh and this time, when his hand moved up to her neck, he began to gently comb his fingers through her hair. A slow, repetitive gesture that could have put her to sleep it was so satisfying.

“ _If there’s a single thing this one excels at…it is “seeing” what most cannot see._ ” Blasto had apparently been teamed up with an Asari Spectre, the two of them working to take down a dangerous villain.

“ _Such as?_ ” And of course, because it was a _Blasto_ vid, everyone else was completely useless except for him.

“ _Tracks. There in the dust_.” Shepard’s eyes were only half open, seeing the illumination of the hanar.

“ _Where? I don’t even see the dust…_ ” The Asari said, looking all around them with her gun aimed incorrectly.

“ _Allow this one to enlighten you._ ” Shepard rolled her eyes again. She let the show slip from her consciousness and focused again on her mercenary. The memory of one of his stories came back to her, the time where he’d gotten into a fight with a hanar. It completely broke her sense of zen and she snorted out a laugh.

“That wasn’t even a good joke.” Zaeed chided, pushing all her hair back so he could look at her face. She turned backwards so she could look at him, unable to get the stupid smile off her face.

“I was trying to imagine you fighting one of those jellyfish.” Shepard said in her defense, causing the mercenary to give her an incredulous look. “Then I imagined the sight of you stuck in a neckbrace for weeks. _That_ made me laugh.”

“You want to try getting choked by those things and their goddamn tentacles, then?” He challenged, raising an eyebrow at her and gripping her waist to pull her closer. His proposition made her laugh again, more reserved this time.

“I think I’ll pass.” She said, sitting up all the way so she could face him. “A neckbrace would make a _lot_ of things more difficult.”

“We can’t have that, now.” He replied smoothly, eyes flickering down to her lips. She gave a small smirk and leaned forward just near enough that he had to close the distance. He required no further invitation, and met her with sincerity. Shepard moved closer, pressing one hand to his leg and the other to his chest, sliding it upwards until it reached his neck. Zaeed slipped his hand to the back of the head, keeping her against him as he bit at her lip. She smiled at the gesture, letting her nails drag gently across his cheek. They were met with the resistance of his growing stubble, the feel of it rough on her skin. Pulling away, she softly let her finger follow the path of his massive scar before kissing him briefly once more. The gesture, no matter how overplayed, always seemed to catch him off-guard. As if the scar should be the biggest deterrent, the guaranteed way to remind her she should leave. So she constantly made a point to acknowledge it and touch him, trace it and kiss him, reassert that she was very much aware of it and very much attached to him anyways.

“Wait here.” Shepard said before retreating to the bathroom. Along with having laid claim to one side of her bed, many things now littered her room that belonged to him. Which made sense, considering he now spent more nights in her quarters than his own. He had abandoned altogether his use of the common bathrooms, seeing as he had free reign to come up and use her private one.

In her bathroom she found all the things he used to keep his face clean shaven. It didn’t surprise her that he would forsake all the modern technology available and opt for a ridiculously ancient earth method of using a small but extremely sharp foldable razor blade. Fixing the strap of her bra, Shepard gathered the things she would need and returned to him. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of her, but didn’t question as she set everything down on the bed. With a determined smirk she crawled towards him and settled on his lap, musing as his hands instinctively moved up her legs.

She opened the blade and held it between her teeth as she mixed up the fluffy white shaving cream. He watched her intently as she picked up the bowl and the oversized brush, moving to start covering his face with it but stopping short. Shepard knew that if he truly didn’t want her to do it he would have no problem stopping her, but the point was she was about to take a very sharp object and repeatedly have it near his neck.

“Is this okay?” Shepard asked as casually as she could. Permission wasn’t exactly something either of them made a habit of asking for, simply because they’d been so adept from the start at reading one another’s body language. Permission had always been interpreted in subtle gestures and movements. But he didn’t mock her or ignore her or laugh at her attempt to be civil.

“Go on.” He said simply, turning his head to make it easier for her while the vid played on behind her. There was gunfire and bad hanar puns galore but Zaeed seemed to enjoy it on some level, so she didn’t press for change. She figured she was lucky that he didn’t want to watch _Asari Confessions 26: True Blue_ , or whatever was the latest one.

Shepard layered on the white stuff and took the blade, leaning close to him and tilting his head so she could get the angle needed. Pressing the blade to his skin, she dragged it and cleared away a section. The Commander inspected her work for a minute to assure she hadn’t nicked him or missed a spot, and then wiped the blade on a towel. She continued section by section, slowly revealing the face she had gotten so familiar with. Every inch, every dip and rise, every scar or faded burn: a place that was known to her. He watched her intently throughout the process, letting his hands drag up her waist to her sides. The contact made her flinch slightly and she tried to fend off the smile that took over.

“You keep doing that and I’m going to accidently cut you.” She warned, looking him in the eye as he defiantly continued the gesture.

“There’re worse ways to die.” He replied in a low voice. She turned his face away from her and continued her work; a task made more difficult by his distracting hands on her skin. Shepard’s stomach growled as she worked on his chin, and she really wished that Rupert was still available to cook up some meals. As the Commander finally finished, she wiped the mercenary’s face clean with the towel. Running her hands against the smoothness of his face, she leaned down and kissed him. He indulged her for a moment but pulled away as her stomach grumbled again. “Come on, there’s got to be a decent place to eat on this planet.”

“We’re going out?” Shepard asked with an amused look, getting off of him and picking up all the stuff to take back to the bathroom.

“S’only so much you can make with rations on a ship.” He shrugged, getting to his feet beside her and pulling on his pants. Shepard put things away and found a dress to wear, making quick work of her hair and minimal makeup so they could leave. Zaeed had lit up a cigarette in the meantime, and it didn’t surprise her in the slightest that he had opted for wearing his armor outside the Normandy.

Shepard was a little more hopeful about making it twenty minutes without being attacked, but just to be on the safe side she brought her gun. Zaeed turned off the holo, cutting the ridiculous hanar Spectre off in the middle of saving the world. In the back of her mind she noticed what a messy state she was leaving her cabin in, and smiled at the knowledge that it was a direct result of the mercenary. It almost sickened her how greatly he’d rooted in the parts of her that she never had eyes on. Suddenly she’d find these shadowy overlooked corners of herself and he would be there, like relentless tendrils of a determined vine.

They headed out to the Nos Astra dock provided for the Normandy, the sight of the concierge reminding Shepard to check in on Liara. Though, given her new position in the galaxy, it was more likely Liara was already checking up on her. The whole trading floor always made the Commander feel off; it was such an overwhelming reminder that the majority of people in the galaxy had no idea the threat the reapers posed. Hell, most of them didn’t even know reapers existed. Even with all of her knowledge and attempts to combat the synthetic race, Shepard still had to focus on dealing with the Collectors before she could even begin to plan how to tackle the reapers.

“This way.” Zaeed nodded for her to follow him through the corridor beneath Liara’s old office, where the Asari had gotten rid of her own treacherous assistant. When they neared the spaceport Shepard’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought we’d be going to the Fishdog Food Factory?” Shepard had heard the advertisements a thousand times over in her short time on Illium. _Come to Fishdog Food Factory and try our tummy-tingling Tuchanka sauce and all-time favourite varren steak!_ The advertisements were almost as annoying as the kiosks for Tupari sports drink.

“You don’t like varren, so…” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck but pausing to give cut eye to a Salarian who was walking too close to them. The mercenary was right: for her own strange reasons Shepard couldn’t eat the popular meat. Despite their hostile nature in the wild, there was something about varren that reminded her too much of dogs. It wasn’t uncommon for them to be trained as pets, and the thought of having that for dinner was too much for her. That Zaeed remembered such a thing, though, was touching.

They walked out to the end of the platform and hailed a cab, Zaeed constantly looking around in anticipation of any trouble. When you always expect the worst, you’re better suited to deal with danger as it comes. But that was the problem: he _always_ expected the worst, in all aspects of his life. Including her. The cab arrived and the doors opened, Zaeed stepping in first before turning and offering her a hand. She allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she took his hand, letting him help her into the cab before they both sat down.

“I guess even a bounty hunter’s gotta use his manners once in a while.” She teased, settling into her seat as the doors closed around them. He leaned back in his seat and summoned the navigation menu.

“You bet your sweet ass.” Zaeed replied smoothly, causing Shepard to shake her head. She watched as he scrolled down the listed destination options. Among them were the Nos Astra commercial spaceport, the Dantius Towers (though still listed as requiring clearance for access by non-personnel), Saefos Valley, the Dracon trade center, and the Manjoros Plaza. When he selected their destination, she raised an eyebrow.

The Saefos Valley was once untouched, but with the development of surrounding areas on Illium it quickly became a go-to spot for high end stores and restaurants. There was a time when only the elite of the elite could afford to peruse the area, but it had since expanded to include the majority of the population. It was still, at the end of the day, a valley. As the cab followed its automatic trajectory, Shepard looked out the windows at the stunning scenery that had made the area so desirable in the first place.

Rolling hills speckled with blue and gold, deep valleys filled with purple streams, and if the sun was setting as it was for them the light filtered down casting glimmering shapes on the opposing hills. This small part was untouched, and then the strips of buildings appeared, tucked onto the very tops of the hills. This is where the cab took them, the gentle voice of the vehicle’s VI chiming in to let them know they’d arrived. As the two of them got out onto the main strip, Shepard looked around wide eyed at all of the buildings before turning back to Zaeed.

“If I’d known we were coming here I would have spent a little more time hacking terminals on the last mission.” Shepard teased, more amused than she should have been at how out of place he looked in his bright yellow beat up armor.

“I’m man enough to pay for my own addictions, Shepard.” He grumbled, putting a hand on the small of her back and steering her forward. She laughed, but it took her a minute to realize that he may not have meant the food as the addiction, but rather _her_.

They walked past a dozen restaurants that were _way_ too fancy for her taste, but he eventually led them to one that seemed like it would be a comfortable mix of high end and low-key. Considering the fact that the mercenary liked to frequent dives and grungy bars, it was a milestone that he would even consider eating a place that had tablecloths. They were greeted by the attendant, who recognized Shepard after a moment, and then led them to a booth that overlooked the valley. The two of them took their seats across from one another and listened as the Asari waitress pointed out the chef special (ironically enough, that night it was varren tartar), the wine of the week (something far more refined than the usual Batarian shard wine), and quickly explained how the menu was divided into species friendly and species specific food. Apparently ingesting anything under a blue banner would likely result in organ failure. Zaeed looked up at her as if gauging if she’d be willing to try it just for the thrill of it.

The waitress left them to peruse the menu and make up their minds on orders while she went off to get the bottle of Turian brandy the mercenary had ordered. In the valley below them a subtle fog was beginning to stir above the distant water, creating a hauntingly image that reminded her a little too much of the hostile klixen on Tarith. Shepard turned her attention to the menu, trying to remember the last time she’d eaten out let alone eaten at a place that still had sentient beings to take your order. These days most places just had computers build into the tables where you punched in your order. Zaeed spent some time grumbling about the options they had until the Commander reminded him they could leave if he wanted. He mumbled something about trying to give her a decent night out but refused to repeat himself when she pressed.

He made sure to order the both of them a stiff drink when the asari came back to take their orders. Shepard didn’t tend to be the jealous type, but she knew enough of his prior exploits to know he had a thing for asari. It no doubt had something to do with their skill in combat which made them popular amongst mercenary groups, meaning he was more likely to run into them than human women. Most asari were drop-dead gorgeous, too. She didn’t rue his history—he certainly didn’t judge her for hers—but she knew that he’d likely gotten used to them. Sometimes, in her weaker moments, she felt self-conscious. Doubt crept in to the deep and dark parts of her, the places just out of logic’s reach, and she wondered if he would ever be as attracted to her as he was to the asari.

“You know, you never did tell me the whole story of how you took down the Verrikan.” Shepard remarked, tilting her head and feeling a flutter in her chest at the way he looked up at her. He leaned back in his seat as the waitress dropped off their drinks, but he didn’t even look at her.

“A Turian frigate is a hell of a ship. Shadow broker hired me to bring the Verrikan down from the inside, whoever wanted it gone was paying big bucks for making a show of it. It was me and four others plus whatever guns we could bring. No chance of success, but we did it.” Zaeed always seemed to feel at ease when he was dishing out war stories. The only small talk he seemed to engage in was drenched in thermal clips and blood.

“You were the only one who made it out alive, right?” She asked, leaning forward slightly.

“I made out like a bandit—my first impossible mission as an independent contractor. Nothing has been so goddamn sweet as watching that turian warship crash planetside. It was the pride of the 8th fleet, the thing had survived more battles than any other. Took three guys with me, had one on the inside. Polonis, a turian, for some reason lost his love for the hierarchy. Doesn’t happen much, but he was happy to help because of it.”

“I can’t see you making it onto a renowned turian ship without an inside man.” Shepard knew enough about the Turians and their strictness when it came to military and treachery. “What kind of people did you bring with you?”

“Didn’t exactly have a recruitment line out the door for a suicide mission.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes. “First guy was Kendo Holin, a Salarian tech specialist. Sadistic little bastard but smart enough not to antagonize the people who pay him. Then there was Jace Reyn, kid was a former Blue Sun. Stuck with me when shit with Vido went down. A bit green around the gills, but strong as a varren and twice as loyal. Also my biggest fan, whether I liked it or not.”

“Your biggest fan?” Shepard laughed at that, trying to imagine the gruff bounty hunter dealing with admiration. “Are we talking appreciation of your combat skills or holos of you in his bedroom?”

“He had a rifle he called _Bessie_.” Zaeed grumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the kid but happy enough to use whatever help he could get. “Then there was Tristana. She used to be a Justicar but left that behind to become an assassin. She was a stone-cold _bitch_. We had a thing once, but I broke it off before it killed me.”

Shepard tried not to let her discomfort show at the mention of Tristana. It almost made her angry, that after all these years it was Zaeed Massani who had the power to make her jealous of people who existed in the past tense of his life. As if she could justify her envy of everyone who’d ever met him before she had. The mercenary seemed to pick up on it, at least a little, and pushed on with the story after the food was brought over. He of course ordered something plain—a huge steak cooked rare and something deep-fried. Shepard had ventured out and was trying some asari variation of pasta, filled with the iridescent meat of the aquatic creatures that existed in the eezo-filled waters of Thessia.

“So there we are, using thrusters to go from our ship to the side of the frigate, traveling so fast that a few inches off-course meant certain death. Holin opened the external airlock and we all attached our cables to the bars inside so we wouldn’t get shot into space. Polonis got the doors open but Holin’s cable snapped sending him into deep space and the ship’s head of security, Garkko, took Polonis away. Just like that.”

“You didn’t think that would be a good time to abort the mission?” Shepard questioned, watching as he shoved a huge piece of steak into his mouth and chewed on it.

“If you knew how much the job was paying—and now, only a three way split—you’d be _crazy_ to leave all that money behind.”

“Just as crazy to go for it.” The Commander challenged with a small smirk. He raised an eyebrow at her, looking at her with those mismatched eyes.

“You really don’t want to get into which one of us has got more crazy under their belt, Shepard.” He insisted, and she knew he had a point. At least she didn’t _search_ for crazy stuff…most of the time. It sort of just happened to find her. “Anyway, I managed to get Garkko hostage and used him to get to the bridge while the other two distracted the guards. Of course, Tristana left Jace to fend for himself and let him die. I got Garkko to override the bridge’s security controls and sound the abandon ship alarm before Tristana put a bullet in his brain.”

Something told Shepard that Tristana definitely wouldn’t have gone out of her way to try and evacuate the Turians. Zaeed was being paid to destroy a ship, not massacre its crew who was only following orders. In most situations he always tended to play out as the chaotic neutral. She was familiar with chaos, and admitted to herself that it was part of what drew her to him.

“Right as I pointed the ship towards Impera, Tristana caught me in a biotic field. All she had to say was _Vido Santiago sends his regards_. I was busy thinking up all the ways I wanted to shoot her goddamn head off when Impera’s gravity kicked in and shook us up. She lost her footing and before either of us had a chance to pull the trigger the Turians planet-side fired their AA guns right through the ship.”

“So, your whole team is dead except your asari-ex-girlfriend who’s trying to kill you, the ship is on fire, hurdling towards the planet which will promise immediate death, and you managed to get out of there alive?”

Even though he was doing most of the talking, he still managed to wolf down the majority of his meal before she was even half-way done. The pasta-esque dish was so good she was tempted to ask Rupert to try and make it sometime, but figured it would be best to leave the foreign food to the specialists.

“You’d be surprised what you pick up when you’re seconds away from falling to your death.” He said lightly, making it seem like the simplest thing in the world that he’d made it out. But Shepard knew that, just like her, half the times he survived could be credited to plain luck. “Tristana was holding on for her life, so I offered her a helping kick out of the ship. Climbed back up through the ship and into the last escape pod, and got the hell out of there. Not sure which was more satisfying, seeing that ship explode or the look on her face when she realized I had her.”

 “Commander!” A voice called out, stealing their attention. A man was rushing over, followed closely by two restaurant staff. “Commander Shepard!”

Shepard groaned when he came closer and she realized she recognized him. Blonde hair, wild eyes, and a whole lot of N7 knock-off armor. The staff apologized profusely for the intrusion, promising they tried to stop him.

“Stop me? The Commander and I go _way_ back. She helped me take down a red-sand dealer in Nos Astra, you know. Commander, isn’t it cool? First we run into each other in Eternity and now here. Kind of like destiny, don’t you think?”

“Shepard, want me to knee-cap this guy so he doesn’t follow you around?” Zaeed offered bluntly, looking Conrad Verner up and down with mild disdain before looking to her. For a moment it stunned her: with nothing more than a nod on her part he was willing to physically injure others. Outside of a firefight, that is. She had to admit, it kind of turned her on.

“What? The Commander _knows_ me.” Conrad argued. Shepard heaved out a sigh and rubbed her forehead.

“Conrad, I thought I told you to take off that armor.” She said as kindly as she could muster. It was one thing being pestered by him on the Citadel, but she didn’t know if she could handle running into him all through the galaxy.

“Oh, yeah, well I was going to but I—I just—”

“Sternly: Sir, you don’t have a reservation.” An elcor had sidled up beside them, either acting as security or the manager of the place. “Regretfully: I must ask you to leave.”

“I’d listen to the big guy.” Zaeed said, almost threateningly. “If you really are on Shepard’s good side then you wouldn’t bother her. _I don’t like it when she’s bothered_.”

Conrad didn’t have much time to argue his position after that, mostly due to the way the elcor came up at him. He was stammering something about catching up later as he disappeared from the restaurant. The trouble was, now all of the eyes in the place were fixed solely on her. Zaeed heaved out a sigh and rubbed the back of his head.

“You want to get out of this place?” He asked, looking up at her after casting a look at the spot where Conrad had disappeared. “Get a real drink or something?”

“Yeah.” Shepard nodded, offering the smallest of smiles. He tapped away at his omni tool to transfer the credits to pay for the food but looked up at her when she spoke again. “I’ve had enough of the Valley anyways. If the building gives way I don’t want to fight through whatever’s at the bottom of that river.”

“You have to admit, it’d be a hell of a night out.” Zaeed remarked as the slid out of the booth. She laughed, conceding his point. They debated for a bit about the hypothetical fight that would ensue against alien creatures, and Shepard voiced her worry for being armed with nothing but her biotics and a single pistol. Of course the mercenary chastised her for coming without a “real” weapon, but proceeded to question her intelligence for thinking he wouldn’t have brought a better gun for her. When they made it back outside the mercenary hailed a cab, punching in coordinates for some unknown place she was certain would be more to his taste.

As the sky car took them back into the more densely populated areas of the planet Shepard silently mused at the fact that bringing a gun for her in case of a surprise attack struck her as a romantic gesture. That was what her relationship with him had turned into.

When they landed, the area reminded her much more of Omega than anywhere that should exist on Illium. It didn’t surprise her all that much, her companions had told her in different words how similar the places were, only one was dressed up to appear a whole lot nicer. Harsh electric music was blaring from a dozen different speakers all along the crowded alleyway. Things down here felt a lot grungier, but it lacked the Batarians or Vorcha that were common on Omega. Instead there were asari mercenaries and commandos galore, along with some salarians and what must have been the majority of the Krogans on Illium all gathered here. There were a whole lot of humans too, most of them looking as roughed up as her bounty hunter.

Shepard followed him into one of the bars that was less packed than others but still had a number of patrons within. Two Krogan were standing guard at the door when they walked in, and they both sized up Zaeed upon entry, immediately taking note of the weapons. Zaeed pushed his way through the crowds, offering a look that challenged anyone to fuck with him whenever someone looked over with anything less than compliance. It made the smallest of smiles tug at her lips. When they finally made it to the bar, all of the seats were taken and the lone asari bartender was being overwhelmed with drink demands. Before the Commander could say anything, Zaeed was exchanging rough words with some poor Salarian sitting down at the bar. He scrambled away when the mercenary took a step towards him, and after that Zaeed turned to her and motioned for her to sit.

Though she didn’t agree with the methods (she’d done a lot more uncomfortable things than stand at a bar), it amused her that he thought it was clearly the first priority. When she was settled in he took his place standing beside her and began to work at getting the bartender’s attention. At this point, the mercenary didn’t even need to ask what she was drinking or in the mood for anymore. He just knew, no matter the situation, and always ended up being right. It almost scared her, how well he seemed to be able to read her.

“And here I thought the horizon was the prettiest thing I’d ever see on this planet.” A smooth voice said from beside her. Shepard looked to her right at the man who’d sidled up beside her. He was about her age with light hair and blue eyes. His armor was sturdy and high-grade which meant he was definitely a merc. He didn’t have any visible scars, nor did his armor sport many scratches or scuffs. Clearly he was very new to being a mercenary.

“Uh, thanks.” Shepard said, turning back to Zaeed as the asari came to make their drinks.

“Wait a minute, I’ve seen you before…You’re…Holy shit, you’re Commander Shepard! You look even better in person.” The guy turned fully to face her, leaning against the bar and watching as she took her drink. “I’m Donnie. Donnie Warbeck. You know, there’s places a whole lot nicer than this up towards the Dracon Trade Center. I could show you around if you want.”

“I’m flattered, but I’m not interested.” Shepard said simply. She used to apologize when turning guys down, used to go through the effort of offering a regretful smile that always seemed to promise _I almost said yes, try again_. But those days and the patience required were long behind her. Now, if rejection set a guy off, she’d risk the fight. She’d risk it because she knew she’d fucking win.

“I hear you loud and clear.” He said with a smile, holding up his hands in surrender. “But believe me when I say it’s my loss. Have a good night.”

When he walked away, drink in hand, back to his buddies Shepard turned to Zaeed and rolled her eyes. He didn’t seem to be as bothered as she expected him to be, but realistically if he tried to fight anyone who ever showed the slightest interest in Shepard he’d probably end up banned from a lot of places in the galaxy. Despite any outward show of aggression in response to the Donnie guy, Zaeed did end up moving a little closer to her. Close enough that their arms touched.

“You know, back in the restaurant when you were putting Conrad in his place…” Shepard had leaned close to talk so he could hear her over the music and din of the crowd. “I gotta admit. Seeing you get defensive kind of turned me on.”

“Is that right?” He said in a challenging tone, looking at her with heavy eyes. She gave him a smirk and he slid a hand onto her thigh. “Damn good thing the ship’s still in maintenance then.”

They’d made the right decision in leaving the restaurant. As nice of a time as it was, being away from the cramped quarters of the Normandy, it didn’t afford them much privacy. At least here, surrounded by people too focused on drinking away their problems to notice the two of them, they were afforded some peace. Shepard mused at the feeling of the bass of the music thumping through the bar and reverberating within her. They spent some time talking about the missions ahead, as well as the ones behind them. In particular, the memory of fighting the thresher maw on Tuchanka brought up her stories of taking down two other thresher maws on remote planets with nothing more than the cannons on a mako.

“I’m sorry, I just—I still can’t understand it.” Donnie had returned, considerably more intoxicated, much to Zaeed’s annoyance. “Someone so beautiful as you shouldn’t be in a place as rough as this.”

“I told you already, I’m not interested buddy.” Shepard said sternly, having lost whatever patience she had for him. “And by not interested, I mean I’m spoken for.”

Shepard leaned back to give Donnie clear view of Zaeed, who sported his usual menacing look when he looked over at the chump. Donnie raised his eyebrows and looked between the two of them before turning back to Shepard.

“This grandpa?” Donnie challenged, evoking no reaction from the bounty hunter. “He’s ready to croak any day now. I’m sure there are _many_ areas that I could outperform him in. The important ones at least. I mean look at him, he isn’t even trying to fight for you.”

“You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think Shepard needs me to fight her battles for her.” Zaeed said smoothly, downing his drink and setting the glass on the counter. Still he leaned a little closer and Shepard felt it. Her mind went back to the scene at the restaurant and she knew without a doubt that if she asked him to fuck the guy up he would do it, gladly. But so long as it was just words there wouldn’t be a problem.

“If I’m being honest, you don’t look like you could keep up with me if your paycheck depended on it.” She said coldly, now offended that he was ruining her time out with the bounty hunter. “You aren’t fighting the right battles with armor that clean.”

“Well maybe you should show me the ropes,” He slurred, swaying towards her with a lazy smile. “Teach me how to…fight dirty.”

He reached out a hand and trailed two fingers down her bare arm. The gesture made her jerk away from the contact and look at him with a mixture of disgust and offense. However, that seemed to mark the end of Zaeed’s tolerance of the guy. With a growl, he rubbed the back of his neck. In the moment that Donnie turned to the bar to flag down the bartender, Zaeed took quick steps behind him. Grabbing hold of his hair, the mercenary reeled his head back and smashed it down onto the counter. The glass cracked and scraped at Donnie’s face, sending blood cascading down his face when Zaeed pulled him up.

“You crossed the line, you son of a bitch.” Zaeed hissed, throwing him down onto the floor. With one knee on his chest, the mercenary gripped the guy’s throat tightly and turned his face to look at Shepard. “You owe her a goddamn apology.”

“Hey! Get off of him!” One of Donnie’s buddies called out. Zaeed knew the rules of places like these: don’t pull your weapon first and don’t kill anyone. Anything else tended to be considered a night’s entertainment, especially when the guards were Krogan. A little blood was just a good show. But the guy’s friends were heading over, just as drunk as Donnie. Shepard got to her feet but Zaeed shook his head.

“I’ve got this.” He walked right up to the guys and waiting for the first punch to be thrown before fighting back. The mercenary made it look a lot easier than it was: incapacitating the three men with nothing but his bare hands. There was blood smeared on the floors and the music was now laced with intermittent groans from the aggressors. Zaeed shook the blood off his hands and Shepard quickly paid off their tab before steering them out of the bar and back to a cab. All things considered, it had actually been a far less violent night than she’d expected, especially on a place like Illium. Half the times she’d come here, she ended up in a firefight.

“You know, what I said before about you being defensive…” Shepard began as their cab took to the air. He looked over at her, a bit of blood from one of the men smeared on his jaw. “It gets me a _whole_ lot more riled up when you actually start throwing punches.”

Without another word she leaned forward, bringing her lips down on his. He didn’t hesitate, reaching his hands around her body to heave her closer. His tongue moved past her lips and teeth to dominate her own, as if desperate to taste her. He had her completely. She just needed to make sure he knew.

“We are going _directly_ to my cabin, understood?” Shepard said roughly, gripping his jaw so he looked up at her. He nodded, nipping at her lip before kissing her again.

The two of them tried to hide their rushed pace as they moved from the cab stand back to the Normandy docking tube and eventually into the airlock. As they waited for the decontamination to do its job, she found herself hovering closer than usual. If the crew wasn’t inside (especially Joker, just on the other side of the door), she likely would have jumped him right then and there.

Some of the others had gone out to explore Illium on the downtime as well and were now gathered in the CIC. Tali, Kasumi, Garrus, Miranda, Samara, Jacob, and Thane were in the middle of conversations when Shepard approached. They greeted her and the lot of them discussed any interesting things that happened on planet. Before anyone could leave EDI appeared at one of her consoles.

“Shepard, may I ask a question about human behaviour?” The AI requested, blinking blue.

“Uh, sure EDI.” Shepard said with a backwards glance to the crew.

“I have scanned many vids, novels, and music native to Earth and human culture. Usually with the level of affection shown, there includes exchange of gifts and emotionally significant speeches. Zaeed has not admitted that he loves you, contrary to his actions.”

“Oh, _Keelah_.” Tali shook her head as Shepard fought off the first blush in years.

“I am curious if there has been something I have overlooked, which would signal my diagnostics may need to be updated.” The AI said innocently, completely oblivious to the impact of what she’d just done by announcing such a thing in front of all these people.

“Uh, EDI, that’s not really the type of thing you bring up in front of people.” Joker said over the comm system as Shepard crossed her arms.

“I see. My apologies, Shepard. I will avoid discussing such matters in the future.”

Shepard couldn’t even think of something to say in response. She bid the crew goodbye and crossed to the elevator where Zaeed was waiting, avoiding her eye. He pressed the button that would take them to her cabin and the two of them stayed silent. Shepard needed to tell him, now more than ever. But why was it so damn hard to get the words out? They were swarming around her insides, always at the tip of her tongue, but going that final mile to admitting it out loud was still hard for her.

Some things, though, came easier.

As soon as her cabin door closed behind them Shepard turned to face the mercenary with heavy eyes. In that moment they decided to ignore what had just happened and focus instead on what they’d planned to do the second they left the bar. Zaeed closed the distance between them, grabbing her chin as he crashed his lips against hers. No part of her hesitated, hands immediately grabbing at him to keep their bodies close. The way he kissed her—with hunger, constantly biting at her lips—it was almost like he forgot the scene with EDI. As if neither of them could remember that they should have been discussing the issue of _love_. The Commander tried desperately to keep the words out of her head, but the weighty confession was ever present at the base of her throat. In the back of her mind she knew that eventually it would come out, whether she liked it or not, but the way he roughed her up stole her attention more and more each second.

Without warning he slipped his hands to the back of her thighs and lifted her up, taking quick steps from her office area down the few stairs. Pressing her against the wall beside her couch, Zaeed let her go so he could pry his armor off. Shepard tossed her pistol onto the couch, reaching behind her to yank the zipper down on her dress. She wiggled out of it and kicked it away before sending her shoes in the same direction. She watched him filled with lust as he stripped the rest of the way, his eyes ever watching hers. Shepard leaned forward so their lips were almost touching but pulled away before he could kiss her, pressing a hand flat against his chest and gently pushing him backwards.

When his legs hit the bed she shoved him hard enough that he had to sit down. He looked up at her expectantly as she slowly pried off her bra and underwear. Shepard nearly fed off the way his eyes scoured her, the way he subconsciously leaned forward. It made her feel powerful, as if she could have him wrapped around her finger if she really wanted to. Shepard paused at the realization that, if Tali and Kasumi were to be believed, she already did. Ignoring the thought and forcing it back to that hidden place where she’d put that four letter word, the Commander brought her focus back to the mercenary.

And focus was needed. Though she would never admit it out loud, Shepard may have glanced at the things Mordin forwarded to her cabin. The part about using mass effect fields, at least. The Commander was confident in her biotic abilities, especially controlling them, but it still warranted caution. It was, after all, the same power she used to kill things. Shepard watched him closely as she let the blue light engulf her, spreading a gentle buzz through her body. He seemed hesitant at first but when she stepped towards him the reluctance dissipated.

Shepard crawled onto his lap, wrapping an arm behind his neck and slowly moving her hips. She could feel him pressing against her but he was patient, letting her make the first move. The Commander pressed one finger under his chin and, with intense concentration, extended the mass effect field to his body as well. It spread from where she touched him to his entire body, and before he could get too deep into thought about how strange it was she kissed him. It felt different, with the biotics, almost like a shared high. With steady hands she pushed him onto his back, keeping the mass effect field going while she guided him inside her. The both of them let out a breath, but the moment Shepard rolled her hips Zaeed’s hands moved up her skin and dug into her hips.

Bracing both hands on the mercenary’s chest, Shepard’s eyes closed as she slowly picked up the pace. Most times she was more than happy to give him the reigns, to let him take the lead. She was so used to making decision after decision that having someone else in the driver’s seat was blissful. But now and then she felt the need to illustrate she was just as committed to making him feel good as he was her. Tonight, though, it was for a different reason. As if taking control could somehow convey to him that confession that needed to come out.

Whether or not he understood that, though, was beyond her. So she focused on the way she moved, on the speed of her hips and the growing intensity of the mass effect field that enveloped them. Shepard knew she was on the right track when the mercenary began to curse under his breath. She smirked and sat up straighter, watching as his eyes fed on the sight of her. Leaning back a little Shepard felt his body tighten a little beneath her: she’d hit a sweet spot. It took most of the muscles in her core to keep the angle right, but she was determined. As if equally determined to put her release above her own, Zaeed trailed his hand across her abdomen and down between her legs so he could gently trace his thumb over her clit.

It forced a hushed moan from her and the Commander’s nails lightly dug into his stomach. This brief moment of him challenging her and winning was all he needed. He sat up and reached a free hand to the back of her head, tugging on her hair as if claiming control now. Shepard almost resisted, wanted to explain without words that it had to be this way until he understood, but it always felt so much better when he took the lead. Shepard brought the mass effect field tight against them, pushing the limits of the buzz they were feeling, but nearly lost control when he flipped them over.

Zaeed used his strength to pin her down, looking her in the eye before pushing into her. Shepard’s whole body tightened around him and she mused as he pressed his teeth to her neck, throat, chest. All she _ever_ wanted to know was this feeling. Her hands subconsciously fought against his grip, always wanting to touch him, but he kept her unmoving beneath him. He wanted her to be so overwhelmingly aware of how he made her feel.

But they could only hold out for so long. Her name left Zaeed’s lips in a desperate whisper, his eyes nearly closed at the feeling of her. He used the shallowness of her breaths and the flickering of the mass effect field as a gauge for how close she was, releasing her hands and gripping at her throat. The base of her bed began to furiously smash against the wall, Shepard’s knees pressing in against the mercenary’s sides as her head tilted back. He leaned close to her ear and began to promise filthy things, gripping at her throat a little tighter as her moans became more desperate.

It was the muffled sound of his own moans though that finally undid her. Zaeed’s name left her lips in an unsteady proclamation, the bounty hunter growling in response as he found his own release. The mass effect field grew exponentially, filling the entire room with a bright glow, but also working to double the sensation rippling through them. Shepard pressed her hands to his shoulders as the light faded entirely, the two of them a duo of shallow breaths and sweat. Zaeed rolled over and landed beside her, immediately reaching for a cigarette from the night stand and lighting up. The smell of the smoke, tied forever to the thought of him, did nothing to help her body wind down.

Shepard sat up a little when she was able and reached out to take the cigarette from him. She took a deep drag of it before handing it back to him and pushing back her hair. The Commander was thinking about using biotics differently next time when she realized she definitely wasn’t the first biotic he’d slept with. Shepard found herself wondering if he’d done that before, maybe with Tristana. He’d been betrayed so many times, especially by lovers like the asari, it made the Commander wonder if he expected the same from her. Some part of her doubted it but another part still couldn’t get the thought out of her head. Again, the pressure to confess consumed her.

The Commander pulled the sheets up to give her hands something to do while she mustered up the strength to have this conversation. Sitting up properly, Shepard heaved out a sigh and looked over at her mercenary.

“Zaeed, we need to talk.” She said cautiously. He had been watching her intently, but stiffened a little at her words— _always preparing for the worst_. The sight just made her even more anxious to get it over with so he would know where she was heading with things. He blew smoke from his nostrils and set the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. Shepard rubbed her neck and pretended it was a battle, acted like it was a mission that required completion. “Where do you see this going, if we survive this suicide mission?”

“That depends on you.” He said after a moment, doing nothing to set her nerves at ease. She looked him in the eye and knew if she didn’t get it all out now, she never would.

“I know what I want.” She said confidently.

“What’s that, then?” Zaeed asked almost apprehensively, still expecting the news to be bad. She wanted to strangle him for being so unwilling to expect the opposite.

“You.” Shepard said bluntly, hoping it left no room for interpretation. “Wherever this goes, wherever I end up…I want you to be there.”

“No matter what?” He asked, and Shepard realized he was finally starting to allow himself to hope. To give into the reality that she wasn’t going to turn him away. “Bekenstein?”

“There’s bound to be some part of the planet that’s secluded.” A small smile took over her features as she shrugged. Shepard tried to remember when she’d last felt so light—it wasn’t something that her lifestyle usually allowed for.

“A dog?” It made something in Shepard flutter: he was offering the foundations for building a life together, something that he must have given thought.

“Hell, we can go back to Tuchanka and buy Urz. He’s sweet on me.” It made all the sense in the world: buying a retired pit-fighting champion varren off of a Krogan because the animal lost its bite when it came to Shepard. It reminded her of him. Zaeed watched her for a while and picked up the cigarette again, taking in a deep drag before narrowing his eyes at her.

“You’re down for anything then? Kids?” He challenged. It took her a minute to process what he’d just proposed. She knew he was trying to throw her off, to scare her into showing whatever hesitation he was expecting from her. But she knew, a part of her, ever since they rescued all those children. Whatever his shortfalls, however bad a mouth he had, Massani would defend his family to the death if he had one. He could be a good father, if he wanted to.

“With you, yes.” Shepard said with ferocity, trying to drive home the point that she wasn’t going anywhere. It made her ache that after everything he would still think she could have a breaking point that fell shy of him hitting her or cheating on her. Crawling forward, she settled in his lap and grazed her fingers over the prominent scar on his face. When she finished she looked him in the eye. “I’ve seen all the demons that you’ve got. I’m still here.”

“Not all of them.” He asserted quickly, averting his eyes.

“Zaeed.” Shepard chided. He kept his eyes on the cigarette while he stomped it out. She sighed gently and grabbed his jaw, turning him back to her as he exhaled the smoke. The Commander kissed him briefly but sincerely and knew if she told him now he’d believe her. As she pulled away she looked him in the eyes. “I lo—”

“Commander!” Joker’s voice pierced through her cabin, causing Shepard to close her eyes and sigh. “I’ve got an incoming transmission marked urgent—it’s from Admiral Hackett.”

“Hackett?” Shepard asked, scrambling to her feet and rushing to put on some clothes. “Is it about those kids we rescued?”

“Couldn’t say, ma’am. Do you want me to set it up in the comm room?”

“No, I’ll just take it here.” The Commander quickly made sure she looked presentable and got herself ready in front of the large glass screen. In the brief moments before Joker patched the transmission through, Shepard saw Zaeed through the glass, rubbing the back of his head. She hadn’t gotten to say it. Not properly, not completely. Surely he had to have known what she was going to say though.

“Commander. Thank you for your time. I’ll keep this brief.” Hackett announced. Shepard was doing her best to pay attention, but her heart was hammering in her chest. Partly because she wanted to put the whole transmission on hold and go over to the mercenary to finish her speech, but mostly because she could so wholly envision this could-be future they were weaving. First, though, a dozen missions, a trip through a mass-relay that no one had ever survived, and whatever aid she could provide the Admiral. “We have a deep-cover operative out in Batarian space. Name’s Doctor Amanda Kenson.”

Batarians again. It was always the Batarians. But Shepard knew that if anyone hated dealing with the bad apples of their species as much as she did, it was her mercenary.


	7. Chapter 7

“Looks like you’ve recovered.” The voice was familiar, but not for this place. Shepard had been rubbing her eyes but looked up to see Admiral Hackett, in the flesh. Recovered wouldn’t exactly be her first word choice, but she got to her feet and offered a salute. “Sounds like you went through hell down there. How’re you doing?”

“Fine.” Shepard said quickly, wondering how long she’d been out. What did she last remember? Escaping the asteroid, Kenson, Harbinger speaking through one of the collectors…She figured she must have passed out when she got aboard the Normandy. Maybe as early as the shuttle. “No more visions if that’s what you mean. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“You went out there as a favour to me. I decided to brief you in person.” Hackett said, standing up a little straighter and folding his hands behind his back. “That was _before_ the mass relay exploded and destroyed an entire Batarian system. What the hell happened out there commander?”

“Have you received any intel about what happened?” She asked, wondering if she’d been coherent at all to write a report at some point or if she’d mostly just been comatose.

“All I know is that I sent you out there to break Amanda Kenson out of prison and now an entire system is destroyed.” Hackett sighed heavily, casting a look out of the med bay windows at the crew pretending not to be waiting for their commander. “I hope you can fill in the leap of logic between those two events.”

With a deep breath, Shepard nodded and leaned backwards against the bed. The memories were a little fuzzy, but she did her best to go back to the beginning and walk him through everything. From sneaking into the Batarian prison without alerting a single guard, all the way to Kenson’s erratic behaviour and the unveiling of object Rho. Everything that led up to the bloody, devastating ending.

“Sounds like Amanda was indoctrinated. Well that’s a damn shame.” Hackett faltered for a moment, likely remembering what his friend had been like when they’d last spoken, and now forced to remember her as nothing more than a Reaper’s servant. “And you believe the Reaper invasion really was a threat?”

“We _literally_ had minutes to spare.” The image of that cliché doomsday clock still haunted Shepard. She could still taste the panic at the back of her throat, threatening to take control of her. Somehow, though, the fear of what could have happened wasn’t the worst. The horror of what _did_ happen was.

“I’m sure all the details are in your report. I won’t lie to you Shepard, the Batarians will want blood, and there’s just enough evidence for a witch hunt.” Hackett cast another look at the people out in the crew deck and took a step closer. “And we don’t want war with the Batarians. Not with the reapers at the galaxy’s edge”

“What’re you saying?” The Commander asked, straightening up. Some part of her knew what was coming, even down on the asteroid amongst all the confusion. But she’d filed it away for later in an attempt to get through the ordeal alive. Later, evidently, was now.

“You did what you did for the best of reasons, but there were more than _three hundred-thousand_ Batarians in that system. All dead.”

Shepard knew that he wasn’t coming after her, wasn’t blaming her, but it still stung. She made a point to always be very aware of her failures, in an attempt to perpetually do better. _Be_ better. But to be reminded of such a colossal loss of life that was a result of her actions, and especially by a superior officer, it just felt like salt on a wound.

“They died to save _trillions_ of lives. If I could have saved them, you _bet your ass_ I would have.” She didn’t need more ghosts haunting her than she already had. But now there were 300,000 more to keep her up at night. God, she wished she’d done better.

“You’re preaching to the choir, Commander.” He held up his hands and she made every effort to soften, to make sure she wasn’t betraying the professional façade required of her. “If it were up to me, I’d give you a damn medal. Unfortunately…not everyone will see it that way.”

“So what do you suggest?” Shepard felt a thousand nervous ticks begging to be carried through, but she kept herself still. What happened couldn’t just go away or be swept under the carpet. Nor would she want it to, not with a death toll like that. But still, she hoped that whatever happened she’d at least be able to explain that there just wasn’t any time… _there wasn’t enough time_ …

“Evidence against you is shoddy at best. But at some point, you’ll have to go to earth and face the music. I can’t stop it...but I can and _will_ make them fight for it.” He said vehemently. It was a promise, and she believed that he would keep it. For all her service with the Alliance, she was relieved to know that she hadn’t lost all her bonds of fellowship. She still had people in her corner.

“When the time comes, I’ll gladly turn myself in.” Shepard said after a moment, lowering her head. “If there’s still a galaxy around to crucify me.”

“Do whatever you have to do out here. But when earth calls, you make sure you’re there with your dress blues on, ready to take the hit.” Hackett watched as Shepard nodded, but it didn’t take a genius to see how this whole situation must have been weighing on her. “In the meantime, I don’t need to see your report to know you did the right thing.”

It caught her a little off-guard, but she nodded and returned the smallest of smiles that he offered. She gave another salute as he readied himself to leave. “Yes sir.”

“You’ve done a hell of a thing, Commander.” Hackett said sincerely before the two of them exited the med bay. Walking towards the elevator, she ignored the eyes of her crew burning into her back. There would be time to address them after. For now, she ascended to the CIC with the Admiral of the fifth fleet and tried to ignore the way he looked apprehensively at all the Cerberus uniforms. Joker turned in his pilot’s seat and saluted the Admiral as the airlock doors opened. “Despite everything… it was good to see you, Shepard. Give those Collectors hell.”

“I’ll do more than that, sir.”

He nodded to her and turned away to the airlock of his own ship. For a brief moment, she could see into the Alliance frigate. Could see all the faces staring back, wanting to catch a glimpse of the hero of the citadel-turned-traitor who worked for Cerberus. That’s what they mostly said about her now, right? The doors closed and so did the Normandy’s airlock. There was a series of rumbling sounds as the Alliance ship began to disengage from the Normandy and ease far enough away to initiate FTL travel.

With both sets of doors closed around her, Shepard leaned over and braced her hands on her knees. She let out one shaky breath and took one in, smashing her eyes shut. _Three hundred-thousand_. That was practically genocide. Would anyone ever believe that it wasn’t intentional? Would it even matter to the Batarians? She doubted it. She really, _really_ , doubted it. There had been enough to deal with before this was thrown into the mix. All of the chaos, and she found herself thinking of the mercenary. Whatever day-dream plans they’d talked about while drunk off of hope and intimacy had effectively been burned down thanks to her time on the asteroid. All these thoughts, all these realizations made her breaths shallower each moment until her arms began to tremble.

“Hey, Commander…” Joker’s voice sounded a split second after the door opened to her left. Shepard straightened up immediately and pulled herself together, forcing the wetness brewing in her eyes to disappear. “I know things didn’t exactly work out down there. You, uh, you doing alright?”

“Of course.” She said dismissively, walking out of the airlock finally. “Gather the crew in the briefing room, and EDI—set a course for that derelict Reaper. We need that IFF now because it’s time to wipe these Collectors off the map.”

“Destination set. ETA: three days.” The AI’s voice said clearly as the Commander headed towards her private terminal. She began to scan through her correspondence while her crew began to filter in from the elevator, group by group heading into the armory on their way to the briefing room. There was nothing that seemed to require her immediate attention which was good, and she would have time on their journey to pick up this IFF thing to respond as needed. When everyone had arrived, Kelly let her know.

The Yeoman smiled at the Commander as she set off for the meeting, but it was a sad smile. The psychologist in her was dying for a counselling session, but she knew that Shepard wouldn’t agree to it unless there’s was nothing left to do. And there was _always_ something to do.

As Shepard turned into the hallway outside the briefing room, she found Zaeed waiting for her. It gave her pause, and he walked up close to put his hand on her arm. She sighed heavily, brushing her fingers against his cheek before wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, bringing her as closely as he could. As her eyes closed, Shepard buried her face in the crook of his neck in an attempt to steady her mind. To let him swallow her up whole, be her constant, an anchor. _God,_ she needed him.

“You should’ve let me come.” He growled, holding her a little tighter. Shepard opened her eyes and pulled away, looking him in the eyes before feeling guilt wash back up to drown her like an incoming tide.

“I probably would’ve gotten you killed too.” She said dismissively. With that she marched into the meeting room and walked around to where she could address everyone. The door closed behind Zaeed and he stood at the other end of the table between Garrus and Mordin.

“It’s good to have you back, Commander.” Miranda said from her left side. Shepard nodded by way of acknowledgement and looked at everyone in the room.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions about what happened the past few days, so I figured it would be best to address them all at once.”

“Commander, you don’t owe us an explanation.” Joker said, lacking his usual sarcasm. That was how she knew she was really worrying him.

“No, I do.” Shepard asserted. “When I got groundside on Aratoht, the mission was clear: get Dr. Amanda Kenson out of the Batarian prison as quickly and quietly as possible.”

She relayed the mission to her crew, in greater detail than she had with Hackett. Time allowed her that grace. She explained facing down waves of Batarians while Kenson got them elevator access to the ground level, escaping on a stolen shuttle to the asteroid where Project Base was located, and how normal everything seemed. Shepard told them about the Reaper artifact standing out in the open, the vision it gave her, and how from that moment on every last person on the asteroid tried to kill her. Being knocked out after surviving mechs and five waves of attackers wasn’t the worst part: it was realizing that they’d kept her under so long that there was barely any time to evacuate the Batarian colony. They were originally heading straight for the Alpha relay, set to destroy the entire system along with it. But thanks to the indoctrination, Kenson and the crew were preparing to allow the reapers to come through the relay and launch their invasion. With the communication tower out of order, barely any time turned into no time at all. Shepard even told the crew about Harbinger’s taunts, before she escaped to the shuttle. All that exhaustion, all the gunfire, all the running around and betrayal, it was almost enough to keep her down for the count. What hit harder was explaining to her crew that after they finished with the Collectors, she’d have to go back to earth.

“ _What?_ ” Garrus said incredulously.

“You stop a literal _Reaper invasion_ and they’re bringing you to court?” Jacob questioned, eyebrows crushed together.

“Typical Alliance.” Miranda hissed, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

“You’re not actually going, are you?” Grunt said defiantly. “Can’t you just blow up the court room?”

“Three hundred-thousand people are dead because of me.” Shepard said gravely, cutting the chatter short. “I have to answer for that. It’s…It’s my duty.”

“You weren’t the one who launched the asteroid, Shep.” Kasumi said quietly from the other side of the room. Shepard said nothing, but rubbed the back of her neck.

“Does anyone have any questions?” The Commander asked, looking back up at her crew. They all sported different variations of angry looks, clearly unhappy with how this whole mission had played out against her. That it would require so much more of their Commander than she’d already given. When no one spoke up, she nodded and explained that they were once more on track to board the derelict Reaper. After that, they were going after the Collectors. “I suggest you wrap up any loose ends you have and settle in for the end run. Dismissed.”

Everyone began to filter out of the room at her word, breaking off into the groups that had come naturally to many of them over their time together. As Shepard watched them all leave she was aware of two truths: she would do everything in her power to get them all there and back again from the Omega relay, and that she would be sure to keep them all out of the defense committee’s hands when it came time for her to face the music.

Shepard’s whole body still felt tightly wound up as she eventually slinked out to the elevator. By now everyone had dispersed, so when she called the elevator she was alone—almost. When the doors opened, Zaeed was waiting for her. Stepping in and having the doors close, sealing them in, it automatically made her relax a little. She didn’t have to hold herself together as much around him; partly because he would never require it from her, and partly because he himself held her together.

When they got into her cabin, she immediately turned on some music. Silence left too much room for her own thoughts. Without any preamble Zaeed began to pry off his armor, knowing innately that she would need something more that metal plating to put her hands on at a time like this. She needed comfort, she needed physical reminders of closeness and affection and _one_ god damn thing she hadn’t set fire to yet.

Shepard sank down on her bed and put her head in her hands. It felt like the weight of the galaxy was crushing her, albeit a little less in the safety of her cabin. Zaeed still smelled like the last cigarette he smoked: a smell that wafted over to her despite the space between them. It smelled like something that felt like home.

“You _know_ it wasn’t your goddamn fault.” His harsh voice cut through the techno coming from the speakers. Shepard looked up at him with dead eyes and a decaying soul.

“Zaeed…three hundred-thousand people are dead.” She breathed out, exhausted down to her very spirit.

“Batarians.” He corrected stubbornly. She gave him a look and shook her head.

“ _People_.” She asserted, moving back a little on the bed and kicking off her shoes. “It doesn’t matter if some of them were military and hated humans on principle. Not everyone in the colony was sinner beyond saving.” Even if they were, since when did she get to play God? Zaeed walked over to her, pushing up the sleeves on his shirt before taking a seat beside her on the bed.

“Even the right choices have consequences. You’ve learned that by now.” He said in a quiet voice. Shepard looked up at him, more thankful for giving in that night in his room now more than ever. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against his and crushed her eyes shut against their watering.

“ _I tried to warn them_.” She breathed in a strained voice. “So many times, I tried to get out a message. To save some of them. _Any_ of them. They just kept coming at me. _They just kept coming at me_. It was the Skyllian Blitz all over again, but this time I didn’t…I couldn’t…”

Zaeed pulled away and roughly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. He heaved out a breath and softened his grip.

“I ain’t gonna let you do this to yourself.” He said seriously, releasing her entirely. “You can’t kill yourself to keep the galaxy from crying about shit.”

“Shouldn’t I?” The mercenary’s teeth began to grind at her words. Shepard already knew his response would be a resounding _no_. She would never be entirely sure when this ideal rooted itself within her: was it back on earth? Was it when she trained with the Alliance? Somewhere along the line she’d decided that her life should easily be sacrificed for the greater galaxy. It just made sense. Only now, she had something to be selfish about. Someone to leave behind.

“Lay down.” He said suddenly, reach one hand behind his head to tug at his shirt. She looked at him with abundant confusion as he pulled the shirt off and tossed it to the side. He didn’t wait, but got to his feet and eased her back.

“What are you doing?” She asked, watching as he inched her own shirt off her body. When she was bare from the waist up he leaned down over her and crashed his lips onto hers. It certainly offered shock value, and despite everything that had happened her body responded before her mind could catch up. And her body responded with sincerity.

“Getting you out of your goddamn head.” He growled, sending shivers through her body. The stubborn part of her still wanted to wallow in her feelings of failure, guilt, and mourning. If she had her way, she would be thinking about this for days. But Zaeed was not going to let her have her way.

Crawling on top of her, he kissed her again. This time, with marked hunger. A desperate sort of need to get her to focus on him and what he was doing to her. Just his touch on her waist filled her core with heat. His name left her lips in a whisper as he broke away, but he was too busy to pay her and mind. The bounty hunter’s fingertips traces the lines of every scar on her body, every bruise that lay as a reminder of her battles. Then he lowered his lips to her chest. A small sound escaped her as his tongue ran circles around her nipple, every action pulling her further and further from the flurry in her head. As his right hand slid just under the waistband of her pants, she felt her hips move towards him—desperate for contact.

The Commander was desperate for him to deliver on the teasing, to move his hand just a little lower and take her over the edge. But as he sat up and settled between her legs, he had a devious look on his face. Using both hands he tugged at her remaining clothing, and the Commander eagerly lifted her hips up to speed up the process.

“ _Have I got your attention?_ ” He demanded in a low voice. She swallowed hard and nodded, wondering how he could make her so wet just from speaking. “ _Good._ ”

Starting at her belly button, one of the galaxy’s most notorious guns-for-hire began to trail his lips down her body. Shepard’s hands clenched into the bedsheets with anticipation as went lower and lower; each burst of warmth replaced with a cool tingling sensation as the air rushed against the wetness his lips left behind. But just when he should have blessed her body with the right touch, he moved instead to her inner thighs. She let out a growl of frustration but he didn’t seem phased in the slightest. Laying down on his stomach he positioned himself between her legs and alternated between lips and teeth on the sensitive skin of her legs.

“ _Zaeed_.” She said dangerously; a promise of lethality if he didn’t stop messing with her. His mouth rumbled against her skin as he made a noise of indignation. Despite his games, he eventually gave in.

In a slow, languid movement he drew his tongue along her slit from entrance to clit. Shivers trickled down her spine as a stifled moan burst from her mouth. Using his right hand he spread her open, the mercenary put his mouth to work. When his tongue was on her, in her, the Commander had no hope of wallowing in misery. All she knew was his touch. All she could feel was him. It was almost as if every woman he’d ever been with was just preparation for her; target practice until the true mark was found. She was more than happy to be the bullseye, if this was her prize.

Shepard’s back arched as he slid one finger inside of her. At first he just got her used to the feeling, then he gradually began to work her. The Commander slid both hands over her abdomen and settled them in his hair, the way he did whenever she went down on him. The gesture was a mixture of ownership and gratitude. One hand said _I have to touch you for how good you’re making me feel_ and the other vowed _you belong here and only here_. But from where she was gazing across the length of her body at him, both hands looked the same.

Zaeed slipped another finger into her and began to work with more fervor. Before, it had just been about fogging up her mind. Now, it was about making her come. He was consumed with the task, and he was consuming her. Now and then he would move away to bite her inner thigh or lower abdomen, but he always returned. When the mercenary decided he wanted more leverage, he pulled away from her entirely. She cried out, and for a brief moment he had to drink in the sight of her. Chest heaving, eyes heavy, legs spread, lip pressed between her teeth. He would kill a thousand men to come home to this every night.

Without further hesitation he hitched her legs over his shoulders and lowered himself once more. This time he started with his fingers, curling them slightly until he found her sensitive spot. It was marked by her legs heaving his body closer out of reflex. With a dark smirk he kissed below her bellybutton before returning his lips to her clit. Everything from that point on felt like a sprint to the finish line. Each movement build her up more than the last, this fast-fuelling fire stirring up her insides. Shepard was practically squirming from the blissful tension; unable to escape under the pressure of his arm across her pelvis.

The moans tumbled out of her throat, this affirmations thrown against the music still booming behind them. As if she was challenging him to make her feel louder than the music. A challenge he was well on his way to win. Now and then he took in deep breaths, determined to see this through. She had the next three days to repay the favour. Again, and again, and again.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she hissed, nails scraping at the back of his neck as her back began to arch. He slowed down the pace of his fingers and pulled away to watch her as she wound tighter, tighter, tighter. It didn’t take long after that, and soon the Commander was crying out in shallow breaths. Her entire body clenched around him, because of him, and it was a sight he would return to in his mind over and over. Zaeed stayed inside her until she rode out every last cascading wave.

Shepard’s legs pressed together as he sat up, finally releasing her. While he went to get cleaned up she collapsed, feeling the same weakness she did whenever he tended to her. Pushing back her hair, she felt a sudden coolness on her stomach. The Commander looked down at the shirt the mercenary had thrown for her on his way back to her side. She eventually sat up and, despite the persistent feeling between her legs, pulled the black fabric over her head. It wasn’t until he laid down beside her with his chest still bare and let her lean against him that she realized it was his shirt.

As they lay there in the aftermath, Shepard drew his hand up close to her chest. She absently traced her fingers along his palm in repeating patterns, her touch so soft you’d almost miss it. He allowed it, but reached over to turn off the music. However prudent his efforts were at distracting her in the moment, she found her mind drifting back to the events that had passed and were yet to come.

“If we end up making it back from this suicide mission with the Collectors… I don’t know what’ll happen to me.” Shepard couldn’t even look at him when she said it.

“Got a long way to go before you worry about that.” He said, shifting a little beside her. Clearly it wasn’t a popular topic with him either. Maybe he just wanted to savour whatever time he had left with her.

“It isn’t likely they’ll let me walk. I might be looking at jail, and if that happens then I don’t know how long it would be.” Shepard was talking partly for herself and partly for him. Trying to work through her thoughts and emotions and what this would mean in the future. “I can’t ask you to just sit around waiting for years if—”

“Ain’t got the patience to sit around.” He said quickly, letting his head fall backwards. “But I’m not gonna jump ship cause your Alliance has to play politician with a bunch of terrorists.”

She turned to argue, to tell him it wasn’t fair for him, but as soon as she got close enough he kissed her so she would finally stop. It made her feel a thousand things at once, but more than anything it reminded her not everything had been destroyed. This moment, this feeling, this man—the Reapers hadn’t taken him away, hadn’t ruined him.

When he pulled away and reached for a cigarette, the Commander sighed. She still needed to say it, but somehow she was still scared. It infuriated her that fear over something like this could still exist, but the anger didn’t make her any braver. She wanted to turn away from him, from the overwhelming feelings he infected her with, but she was tired of running from him. Tired of him running from her. They had to deal with this some time, and now seemed like the opportune moment.

“Zaeed?” Rolling onto her stomach, Shepard propped herself up on his chest. He grunted in response, looking at her and reaching a hand out to push the hair behind her ear. The Commander swallowed hard and looked him in the eye. “I—I love you. I’m _in_ love with you. You know that, right?”

The bounty hunter took in a deep drag of the cigarette and blew out the smoke before nodding.

“Yeah, I know. Still don’t know why, but I know.” He said, fighting the urge to look away from her. It was clear that she had expected something else in response, but she wouldn’t ever push for something like that. As her head began to turn from him he reached out to keep her attention. After a beat of silence he spoke with unprecedented honesty. “You’re the only one in my crosshairs, Shepard. You’re the only goddamn thing I see.”

What a cruel thing in their nature, to make them more comfortable with violence and bloodshed and death than this. And yet they both fought against the soldiers in them, the parts of them that refuted the possibility or logic of being so deeply attached to someone. They fought against that knee-jerk reaction bred from loss and betrayal, and they kissed each other. Skin on skin a revolution, in the context.

“There’s something else.” Shepard said as they broke apart. The Commander sat back and brought up her omni-tool, searching through her personal files before finding what she was looking for. After encrypting the data, she sent it to the mercenary.

“Coordinates?” He said as he studied her message. “To what?”

“I won a bet with an Admiral on Pinnacle Station, he gave me the deed to his house on Intai’sei. I had to check to make sure my whole two-years-dead thing didn’t mean I lost it. It’s just a pre-fab, so nothing special, but I figured…I don’t know. It’s in the middle of nowhere and no one other than the Admiral knows where it is. A safehouse, I guess. If you ever…”

“Thanks, Shepard.” He said quickly. He had such trust issues that him accepting this place spoke volumes. The Commander just wanted to give him something reliable, especially considering she didn’t know how long she’d be tied up on earth. The mercenary took another drag of his cigarette and folded his arm behind his head. “So what’s the plan for the IFF?”

“If we’re lucky,” Shepard began, running a hand through her hair. “The Cerberus team on-board will have put it somewhere waiting for us to pick up and we’ll get out just as fast.”

“Doubt it.” He said skeptically, watching her begrudgingly nod. They began to list all the things that could go wrong and how best to combat them. The preparation made her calm, and knowing that he’d be ready by her side guns-blazing and fury-filled helped to set her at ease. Nothing would ever permanently erase the guilt she felt—hell, it would just be stacked on top of all the other guilt inside her—but she could endure. Move forward. Survive.


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re certain there’s nothing we can do?” Liara’s voice wasn’t nearly as distraught as her expression. The asari’s face was staring at her from a quadruple-encrypted transmission reaching all the way from Hagalaz to earth. “With my resources, I’m sure I could easily make some…arrangements.”

Winning never used to feel so downright depressing. The Commander and her crew had done the impossible: survive the Omega-4 relay, destroy the Collector home base, and even make it back to familiar territory. With very few fatalaties, and none among her crewmates, it was almost an unbelievable story. But the feeling didn’t last long: not with a defense committee meeting looming over her head.

“I appreciate the thought, Liara, but I’ve got to see this through.” Shepard replied. The Commander was sitting alone in the cab that had taken her and the mercenary from the Normandy to the Alliance headquarters. Zaeed was standing outside smoking, complying with her request to make one last call before she made the long walk. “You think you’ll have time as the Shadow Broker to keep an eye on everyone?”

“Of course, Shepard.” The asari promised. The Commander nodded, looking out the tinted window of the cab at her bounty hunter. “There was actually…something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?” Shepard asked, turning her attention back to the asari. Liara scratched absently wrung her hands for a moment before fessing up.

“I know you never bothered looking through all the information the old Shadow Broker had on your crew, but I must confess that I did.” The asari waited for some sort of reaction from the Commander, but all she did was wait patiently for her old crewmate to continue. “I can’t say what will come, but I wanted you to have something to keep in your mind for however long this issue persists with the Alliance and Batarians.”

“Liara, what are you talking about?” Shepard raised an eyebrow, leaning back a little in her chair. Despite all that had changed in the asari since the destruction of the SR-1, her rougher edges still tended to give way to the hesitant young archaeologist within.

“Zaeed hadn’t exactly been planning for a happy ending when he first accepted the contract from Cerberus. In fact, he was considering suicide once it was all over simply for lack of new direction.” Liara explained, pausing at the look on Shepard’s face. The Commander’s heart clenched at the thought of it, the thought of him just giving up. It made her terrified; it made her furious. “At least, that was his last personal log entry before boarding the Normandy. His last logs, though…”

“His last logs were what?” Shepard felt a panic in her gut, a feeling of dread upon hearing the answer. She couldn’t go through all that they’d done, all that was to come with the Alliance, only to lose him.

“He’s been looking up real estate in remote areas of Bekenstein.” Liara said, trying and failing horribly to hide her smile. “ _Two-bedroom_ homes. I know that you never put your own desires first, Shepard, but… I truly hope you continue to find happiness. I do not doubt that he will endure whatever separation the Alliance will impose.”

“Thanks, Liara.” Shepard said, mustering what smile she could. It felt too empty in the cab, even though Zaeed was just outside. It didn’t feel right that after a successful mission there had been so little time to celebrate. Instead, after a couple of drinks they began to fly around the galaxy, dropping off crew members where they needed to be so as to avoid seeing the inside of an Alliance interrogation cell.

Tali was eager to return to the Flotilla, despite the allegations of treason. The rapidly changing attitude towards war in general was something she wanted to be there to help with. Mordin requested to return to Sur’kesh after receiving word from some old contacts in the STG. Grunt, of course, had to return to Tuchanka and take his place in clan Urdnot. The response, as Shepard guessed, was mixed. Garrus went back to Palaven, but not before promising to keep an eye out for any coded messages from her in the event she _did_ want to break out. Apparently the best code words involved _calibrations_ and _canons_.

Samara took her leave at a small planet in the Hekate system, explaining that the Justicar code compelled her to return to the group of slavers they originally infiltrated and attempt to apprehend them. Despite Thane’s declining health, he returned to the Citadel and sought out Kolyat in order to keep his promise. Miranda also took her leave on the Citadel, determined to keep her contingencies in place and become invisible now that Cerberus would be after her. Kasumi and Legion had disappeared at some point, though the former was at least kind enough to leave a goodbye note.

Everyone else, for their reasons, stayed on the Normandy until they finally arrived on earth. Jack, ironically, liked the idea of a big megatropolis to make a new start in. Whether or not that new start involved the creation of a crime ring was not something the biotic felt like sharing. Jacob decided that if he was to be hiding from Cerberus, he might as well do it somewhere nice—the Mediterranean was his destination of choice. The rest of the defecting Cerberus crew, including Ken and Gabby, saw earth and possibly the Alliance as their means for repentance. Joker had already spoken with Hackett who was arranging an Alliance team to meet him on the Normandy at an approved dock while they seized the ship. They would likely just retrofit the thing and bring it up to Alliance standards, but she was certain that Joker and Chakwas wouldn’t face any trouble. They were, after all, only following her command.

“Shepard I—I’ll visit, when I can.” Liara promised, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. Shepard gave a small laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it didn’t seem to help.

“Not sure if the Alliance will allow it, but I’ll appreciate the company if you can.” The Commander watched as Zaeed stomped out the cigarette, and figured she probably should wrap things up. “I should go. Be careful—and thanks for the data you sent.”

“Take care of yourself, Shepard.”

When the transmission ended, the Commander finally exited the cab. It buzzed off immediately while Zaeed turned to her, his expression lacking the usual blank disinterest. Every step towards him was harder than the last, knowing that it not only meant their goodbye but her journey into the unknown realm of political repercussions. The mercenary held up his glowing omni-tool with a raised eyebrow.

“More coordinates?” He questioned as Shepard drew close. She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, looking around to make sure no one was paying them much attention.

“A favour from Liara. Before I left, I wanted to make up for Zorya.” She explained, watching as his mind processed what she was insinuating. “A few days ago Vido Santiago was spotted with a small crew at that location. Judging from the supplies they brought in, they might be settling in for a bit. And he certainly won’t be expecting you to show up.”

Zaeed stared at the coordinates that had been transmitted to him, eyes burning into the image of the planet as it rotated on his omni-tool. It was mildly amusing to Shepard, how things had come full-circle. Their entire relationship started off rocky when she denied him this very opportunity, and now at a turning point it was what she gave him as a gift. Apparently, assassination targets were the new diamonds. After a while the mercenary looked up at the big Alliance building, and then over to her.

“I could use someone I trust watching my back.” Zaeed offered, the tiniest sliver of hopefulness seeping through into his words. “Couldn’t take more than a week. Two tops. You know it’d be a hell of a fight.”

“Zaeed…” A sigh escaped her and she took a step closer to him, looking him in the eyes. All she wanted was to say yes. To leave this behind and go off to play rogue spectre: Zaeed would be more than able to teach her the ropes of living on the run. But that wasn’t her—it would never be her. “You know if I could we’d be gone for a lot more than two weeks. But I…”

“You’re too bloody committed to the cause, I get it.” He scratched the back of his head and nodded. It made the thing in Shepard’s chest ache. It made her want to curse him for ever getting involved with her: then this wouldn’t hurt so much. But the hurt was, in the end, a price worth paying.

“Listen, it’s—it isn’t too late to back out. If you decide later on that you’re tired of waiting, I’ll understand.” Shepard forced out, wanting to be certain that this would be her final moment of doubt, of weakness. “Are you sure you still want this?”

“Shepard, you keep asking me that goddamn question and I’ll fuck things up by trying to break you out of jail.” The mercenary said sternly, taking one step to eliminate the distance between them. He didn’t break eye contact, didn’t flinch away. Of this, he was certain. Of her, he was sure.

“It’s…not _technically_ jail.” She quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. Zaeed was not impressed, but reached out to settle his hand on her waist. Brushing her fingers against his cheek, the Commander heaved out a sigh.

It was going to be so much harder sleeping now, without him. She’d always had problems with night terrors, especially since the Skyllian Blitz. Despite having always dealt with things on her own, the past months had changed that. Shepard would wake up in a panic, sweating bullets and shivering, and instead of her own mumbling voice in the dark there’d be him. To quickly shake her out of it, to turn on the light, to show her with touches too gentle for a mercenary that she was a live and the past was the past. She let herself get too god damn comfortable with him playing ghostbuster to her haunting guilt. It was almost cruel: here she thought either he would have called things off or one of them would end up dead. Never did she think when this first began that the thing that would come between them would be an Alliance detention center. She’d have to get used to swallowing her screams all over again.

Without warning, the mercenary bent to bring his lips down hard against hers. His tongue moved past her lips to meet her own while his hands worked to hold her body close. It was far too personal a kiss for the courtyard in front of the Alliance building. It was far too heated a gesture for onlookers. But none of this seemed to matter to him, all that mattered was getting in the perfect last kiss that he could. It was meant to fill her up, to satisfy her and keep her going until whenever _next time_ would be. All it did, though, was make her starving for more of him. She might have stared at him forever after that move if it wasn’t for the sudden intrusion of another voice.

“Commander Shepard.”

When she turned, Massani took a step back and gritted his teeth ever so slightly. The young man standing before them had tanned skin and bulging muscles, with tattoos inching onto his neck and dog tags bouncing against his grey shirt. He saluted her and displayed no reaction to the spectacle he’d just seen.

“Lieutenant James Vega.” He explained, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I’m here to escort you to your room until the defense committee is ready.”

“Does this room of mine have bars?” She asked lightly, evoking a small smile out of the soldier.

“No ma’am. Admiral Hackett made sure you were taken care of.” He promised. Shepard nodded and explained she’d be there in just a moment. At that, the Lieutenant walked a few feet away to give her the privacy for a last goodbye.

“Well, I guess this is it.” Shepard turned to face her mercenary, the terminus systems bounty hunter that by all rights should have been her enemy on principle. _God_ she was going to miss him. “Liara’s going to be continuing some of our work—we know the Reaper threat isn’t over. Just…be careful. Keep an eye out for anything. And when you go to see your old friend—make damn sure you come back.”

“And you don’t go off doing some big goddamn galaxy-saving thing the second they let you out, got it?” He said seriously, almost scolding her. She bit back a smile and let her hand drag down his arm before finally turning to leave. If she didn’t go soon, she’d never be able to go at all.

If she thought taking steps towards him was hard, taking steps away was even worse. She could feel his eyes burning on her back as she approached Lieutenant Vega. But before she could get too close, he called her back. It completely interrupted her determined walk to the proverbial gallows, but she met him halfway nonetheless. For a few moments he rubbed the back of his neck and looked around to make sure no one was too close. Shepard raised an eyebrow until he finally looked her in the eye.

“I love you.” He mumbled, gritting his teeth.

“What was that?” Shepard said, letting out a muted laugh. Part of her wished she’d recorded it, just because she knew he’d likely never say it again. At least, not anytime soon. He rolled his eyes at her but moved closer anyways.

“Don’t make me say it again, Shepard.”

He kissed her again, much less ferociously this time, but stepped away to acknowledge that he knew she needed to go. Shepard knew the galaxy still needed saving: the reapers wouldn’t destroy themselves. And sure, the business with the defense committee was daunting to say the least. But some part of her knew that things would partially work out. Eventually she’d hear about how Zaeed took down Vido for good. She’d meet her crew again, hopefully before the galaxy was in immense peril. And she’d be able to continue helping people, especially when they needed it most. She had something—some _one_ —to look forward to, aside from reapers. She had an endgame that was no longer dying in combat.

She had him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was the final chapter of a story I never even planned on doing in the first place. Thanks for those of you kind enough to take the time and give me feedback, your words mean so very much to me. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this! :]


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